


The Forsaken

by XxTheDarkLordxX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Blood and Violence, Ex-Assassin Draco Malfoy, Flirting, Goblins, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Mates, Mild Torture to Minor Character, Parseltongue, Post-Hogwarts, Secret Relationship, Teasing, Top Harry, Vampire Draco Malfoy, Vampires, Veela Harry Potter, Veelas, Wandless Magic, Werewolf Lavender Brown, Werewolves, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21911020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTheDarkLordxX/pseuds/XxTheDarkLordxX
Summary: When Draco imagined his future as a child he thought he'd be a Potion Master, get married and maybe have a kid. But the reality was he was a retired Assassin, bitten by a Vampire and mated to a reckless, idiotic, foolish ex-Auror now turned Veela—Harry Potter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 65
Kudos: 920
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	The Forsaken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marshview](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshview/gifts).



> I would like to thank the mods for such a wonderful fest. And give a special shout out to my beta, alpha and friends who helped me tremendously. This story has been a wild ride. I was asked to be a pinch hitter and I am really glad I said yes. Marshview, I love your work and when I read your list of likes, I was in heaven. There was so much there and I was so tempted to add all of it. I didn't, but I did get a good chunk of them, and I had a lot of fun writing it. I really hope you enjoy this story. Thank you!

The sound of shouting was familiar, but Draco tried to tune it out as he pressed a hand against the wall, eyes closing before he whispered his intent—guiding his magic outward. He could tell it worked before they re-opened; the whispers came back differently.

Where the wall used to be solid, it was now see-through on his end. He had been barred from the court proceeding, which was bullshit, so he had to spy somehow.

The full Animatio Court wasn’t supposed to have been in session. Draco could see that all four Magical Creature Councils had attended. Each table representing the different councils held 5 members a piece—all 20 members in attendance. 

That wasn’t good. 

The shouting had increased and Draco wished he hadn’t arrived late. It was hard to tell what was going on. What stood out the most was that each of the council tables had been separated as far apart as possible, and that had him rolling his eyes. One would have thought that they had matured over the years. 

“You’re breaking several treaties.”

“Ah—” Draco jumped, hand clutched to his chest as he turned around and snarled, fangs elongating. “Fuck, Potter I nearly died of fright!”

“Can you kill what’s already dead?” Harry asked as his wings spread outward and flapped twice.

“You can if you know what you’re doing,” Draco smirked, eyes on the shifting pastel colours of Harry’s wings. The beauty of them never failed to amaze him.

Harry looked at the wall over Draco’s shoulder. “I knew you’d be here.”

“You think you know everything,” Draco sneered as he stood up straighter and inspected his clothes.

“Everything?” Harry’s head tilted, and his eyes sparkled stupidly. “No. But I know you.”

“So you say.”

The light laughter he got in return was also familiar however unwanted it was. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in there?” Draco jerked his thumb behind him, not bothering to glance at the wall. “You _are_ on the Veela council.”

“You always were bitter that I got council and the Vampires haven’t given you a single thing.”

Draco narrowed his eyes as he stepped forward. Magic swirled at his fingertips and he was just _itching_ to use it.

“You got council because of who you are, not the things you can do for them.”

“And you think you can help the Vampire council?”

“I _know_ so.”

“And yet,” Harry said, tone a mockery of the innocence he pretended to be. “You’re still a low-level Vampire.”

Draco slammed a hand against Harry’s chest and took pleasure in the way he was flung down the hallway and knocked on his arse.

“Touched a nerve,” Harry coughed as he sat up on the floor, eyes watching every step Draco took toward him.

“You always do.”

“You’re lucky my feathers didn’t bend, or I’d have kicked your arse.”

“Oh?” Draco arched his brows as he held a hand out to pull Harry to his feet. “I think I’d win.”

Harry gripped Draco’s hand tightly, enough to bruise a mortal, however, he was no longer human and hadn’t been one for nearly twenty years.

“You want to put your money where your mouth is?”

Draco turned his wrist enough until he was able to grip Harry’s arm just as tightly. Only, a Veela’s tolerance for pain was barely above a mortal. The wince on Harry’s face brought a smirk to his lips.

“I can come up with a better use for my mouth than that.”

Harry rolled his eyes and shoved Draco away from him. “Merlin, I can’t stand you.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” Draco waggled his brows, loving the way Harry’s wings flapped in annoyance.

When one of the wings whacked him in the side, Draco plucked out a pretty pastel teal feather.

 _“Ow,”_ Harry smacked him several times with his wings. “I told you I can feel that. It hurts.”

“Good.”

The wings continued hitting him, but Draco didn’t mind. He’d been trying to get a teal one for _weeks_.

“You going to add that to your collection?”

“Yeah,” Draco mumbled as he glanced up. “I am.”

“You’re such a sap.” Harry’s wings curled around him and it pulled Draco forward until hands replaced the wings, leaving him in a warm embrace.

“Someone could see us,” Draco warned but made no attempt to move. It was nice being able to be with Harry outside of their flat. Stolen kisses stopped being enticing after a while.

“I made sure the coast was clear. The plaintiff requested a private case, so those who are waiting for the veridic are outside.”

Draco’s eyes closed when a wing touched his cheek, almost in a caress. “You’re supposed to be in the courtroom.”

“I hate the council.”

Draco rolled his eyes. It was frustrating how he’d give up a lot to be on the Vampire council and Harry didn’t even like his position on the Veela one.

“They’ll lecture you again.”

A scoff reverberated around them. “As if I care. They knew I’d be late.”

Draco arched a brow. “Did you at least have a reason this time?”

“Yeah, I wanted to find you.”

“Now who’s the sap?”

Harry lowered his head until their foreheads were pressed together. “Me.”

Draco wanted to kiss him, but was holding out, waiting until Harry broke first. “What did you tell your council?”

“That I got wind of a rogue Veela.”

Draco snorted. If the council fell for that, then they were more delusional than he thought.

“Want to watch the case with me?” Draco whispered as he tapped Harry’s nose with a finger. “You can always show up near the end.”

When there was no response, he shrugged and de-tangled himself. “Suit yourself.”

He hadn’t gotten more than a few feet before he was swept up in strong arms and they were mid-flight.

“I told you I don’t like flying without a broom!”

“It’s what you get,” Harry said as he moved as if he was going to drop Draco. “My arse hurts.”

“In more ways than one,” Draco smirked as they reached the wall and he was on the floor again.

“God, I hate you.”

The sound of yelling distracted him from replying. In the centre of the courtroom there was a woman crying, begging the council to reconsider. There were no wings but that didn’t necessarily mean anything, no definitive signs of a Vampire, Wizards and Muggles weren’t allowed, and she clearly wasn’t a Goblin. Either she was Veela or a Werewolf.

_“Please. She’s all I have.”_

“What’s going on?” Draco asked. “I didn’t have time to check the itinerary. I was late.”

“Doing what?”

“None of your business.”

_“We sympathize with you.”_

“She’s petitioning the council to be allowed to mate her partner.”

“So?” Draco frowned when the members of the Goblin council snickered. “She doesn’t need their permission.”

“Her Vampire partner.”

What?

“And she’s what, a werewolf?”

“Mhm.”

Draco’s heart went out to her. He raised a hand against the wall and wished he could look away from her sobs.

_“At this time, we can’t grant you permission.”_

Draco’s fists clenched when several members of different councils openly mocked her. Inter-species matings were forbidden. The dangers of a Werewolf and a Vampire mating could be astronomical. It could kill the Werewolf or vice versa. They could turn out a hybrid of the two with unknown consequences.

“She’s brave for coming here,” he whispered. “Braver than me.”

“You’re brave,” argued Harry. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be in the mess that we are.”

“I love that you call mating me a mess. Real romantic you twat.” His stomach fluttered every time he thought about their mating. “You’re the one that asked me to bite you.”

“Yes,” Harry whispered, a hand resting on Draco’s shoulder. “But you accepted it. You wanted us.”

Yeah, he did.

Draco’s eyes closed when the Werewolf requested a hearing that would decide if she had the right to appeal the council’s decision. It would get her nothing but pain.

“Is this why you were late?” Draco asked, eyes still closed. “You didn’t want to have to vote no.”

“No. I knew I’d vote yes.”

Draco jerked a little, and it knocked Harry’s hand off his shoulder. “That would have sparked a rebellion.”

“You always were dramatic,” Harry’s lips twitched. “It would cause quarrel with the other councils, including my own, but it’s a discussion worth having.”

“Then why did you stay behind?”

Harry’s eyes were watching the proceedings, and Draco wished they would grant her at least a hearing to be able to get an appeal. The different councils were filling out the paperwork for the hearing. He already knew it would get denied, it always did.

“I’m going to start that rebellion.”

“ _What?_ Harry, no. Don’t do anything rash. I know you don’t know how, but please try.”

Harry turned around before he cupped Draco’s cheeks. “If I can get them thinking about it, then we have a shot, Draco. We have a shot at going public.”

“We don’t have to go public. I love us regardless.”

“I know.” Harry’s eyes were sad, so sad. “But I’m proud of you, I’m proud of us and I want to no longer be a secret.”

Draco’s eyes closed. He wanted that too. But he’d seen the deaths of those that go against the council’s orders. If they went public, there would be no them, there would be no love. Just pain and murder.

“Let me do this,” Harry begged, voice hoarse. “Let me change their minds.”

“Okay,” Draco nodded as he wiped underneath Harry’s eyes. It was going to happen with or without his approval. “You changed the wizarding world, my own world and then my life. I think you can change this too.”

“Fuck,” Harry swore before he pulled Draco even closer and kissed him. There had been hundreds of kisses between them, but never one filled with so much energy. The Magic flowing between them was a side effect from their mating. One they hadn’t expected but had gotten used to. To be able to feel the way their Magical cores had connected would always take his breath away.

“I believe in you,” Draco mumbled against Harry’s lips. “I always will.”

“I love you,” Harry said between small pecks. “I always will.”

Draco felt a smile against his lips, and it made him want to keep going, to keep Harry to himself for just a little longer.

“You should go,” Draco said as he took a step back, his Magic already reaching out to Harry. “Before it’s too late.”

Harry said nothing as he placed a hand on the wall and a small opening in it had everyone in the council room looking up. Draco made sure he wasn’t seen as Harry walked forward, the wall closing behind him.

“Ah, how _nice_ of you to join us,” Hemlock—the chairman of the Vampire council—sneered. Merlin, Draco hated him.

“My apologies, I had some business to attend to.”

“Business more important than your duty.”

Draco couldn’t see Harry’s face, but he could tell by his posture that he was most likely glaring.

“Most definitely.”

There were a few mutters around the room, and Draco snorted. Merlin forbid someone care about something other than duty. He rarely did his anyway.

“I expect I’ve arrived in time for a vote of some kind?”

Hemlock sneered again. “It’s a request for a hearing. One that will be over soon.”

Draco’s fists clenched and he had a strange urge to comfort the Werewolf who was still crying on the floor.

Harry picked up a stack of parchment as he sat down and began to read. “Okay, proceed.”

“As if we need your permission,” Ragnuk—the chairman of the Goblin council—spat, long fingers clenching.

“Alright,” Hemlock cleared his throat, shooting one last glare toward Harry. “Let us begin.”

“Who says you get to start?” Lane—the chairman for the Werewolf council—said. “We have already decided.”

They were all fucking children. Draco didn’t know how scuffles between them hadn’t broken out over the years. Everyone hated everyone. It was bloody tiring.

“Someone fucking go,” Harry slammed his hand on the table. “I don’t care who.”

Draco snorted when it was clear he was getting a lecture from the Veela chairman, Ambarella who was talking to Harry in low whispers that did not carry. 

“We the people of the Werewolf council decline the request.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but it was still disappointing.

“We the people of the Goblin council decline the request.”

There was more sobbing, and it tore at his dead heartstrings. Being a Vampire under the rule of the Animatio Court was worse than when he was a Wizard under the corrupt Ministry.

“We the people of the Vampire council decline the request.”

Draco’s toes moved restlessly as all attention was on the Veela council. He hadn’t felt so nervous in a long time—back when he was still a Wizard.

“We the people of the Veela council dec—”

“Actually,” Harry raised a hand as he interrupted. “I vote for the hearing.”

Draco gasped right along with everyone else. It was hard to think it was real. He didn’t want to hope that anything would change. Hope hurt more than disappointment if things went south.

Arguing broke out and it was hard for him to make out everything.

_“He has no right!”_

_“That law has never been challenged.”_

_“Who does he think he is?”_

_“Ambarella restrain him!”_

Draco slammed his hand against the wall, not bothering to whisper and only going off sheer anger as a thunderbolt of pure magic exploded in the court. 

“Thank you,” Harry said as he stood up, eyes flickering toward where Draco was. “The Veela council cannot decline a request for a hearing unless it is unanimous.”

“Oh thank you!” The woman on her knees cried out. _“Thank you.”_

“You’re in favour of inter-species mating?” Hemlock asked, face twisted in disgust. “Who knows what abominations could come of it.”

Abominations, Draco mouthed, his magic swirling once more.

“I’m in favour of free will. Who are we to dictate their lives?”

Ambarella scoffed. “It’s the Court’s way. You are too new to understand.”

“I don’t need to be old to understand human decency.”

“We aren’t human,” Ragnuk said, fingers still clenched. “We don’t embody the whims as they do. You’d do best to keep that in mind.”

“And you’d do best to not tell me what to do,” Harry said through narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.

“Now what?” Lane threw up his hands.

“A hearing,” Harry murmured. “One to be decided at a later date where we listen to her case and decide one last time whether she has the right to appeal the decision.”

“It won’t work,” Hemlock warned, eyes filled with a hatred Draco had only seen directed at him before. “You’re a fool for trying.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that.”

There was a stilted and hostile silence that had Draco grateful that he wasn’t on the council, for once.

“Court is dismissed,” Lane said when no one spoke up. “We’ll be in touch on a date that suits us.”

The Werewolves left in a flurry, dragging the woman on the ground with them, who was still thanking Harry. The Goblins left after them, dark sneers on their faces, but what else was new?

A few members of the Veela and Vampire council left, but the rest stuck around looking between Harry and Hemlock who were still glaring at each other.

“Why?” Ambarella asked. It was hard to tell what her tone was. It sounded disappointed but her expression said the opposite. “Is this what you stake your name on?”

“Yes,” Harry said, posture tense as he looked at her. “I aim to succeed.”

“It won’t work,” Hemlock snarled. “It _can’t_ work.”

Ambarella and Harry stared at each other for a long time—far too long. Draco wasn’t sure what it was about, Veelas were strange. He didn’t want to have to look at Hemlock at all, let alone do whatever the hell Harry was doing.

“Alright, I’ll grant you this, but only this.”

Whatever that meant.

Harry nodded before leaving, the sound of Hemlock’s yells remaining.

Draco wasn’t sure what Harry had planned. No plan of his had ever worked well. Ever. But this was serious, this was their lives.

And no matter what happened to him, Draco would always believe in Harry.

_Always._

* * *

The flat was dark when Harry came in and Draco laughed when he tripped over an end table.

“Why do you do this? You know I can’t see shit.”

“I can,” Draco said, arms behind his head as he watched Harry stumble toward the bedroom door. “My eyesight is just fine.”

“Well we can’t all be Vampires, now can we?”

Draco raised a hand and whispered his intent before he blew on his palm and a bright orb of light shot up in the air and stuck to the ceiling.

“Thank you.” The gratitude was said with curled lips and a raised nose.

“What happened after you left the court?”

Harry shrugged as he took off his robes and stretched out his wings. The colours of his wings drew Draco’s attention, the shimmering rainbow feathers were just waiting for him.

“You can’t have another feather.”

“You aren’t even looking at me!” Draco protested at Harry’s back—his very _nice_ back.

“I don’t need to, I know you.”

“So you say.”

“Are you going to say that forever?”

Draco moved his hands to his stomach and his fingers fidgeted with his nightgown. “Only if you’re around that long.”

“Draco.”

He didn’t want to look up, they had the same conversation once a month and nothing ever came out of it.

“I might not live as long as you.”

“But I gave you my venom,” Draco mumbled, the pace of his fingers increasing. “You’ve already stopped aging.”

“Have I?” Harry asked. “Because I haven’t noticed anything.”

“You stopped getting grey hairs.”

“Excuse you!” Harry said, tone affronted but a smile was on his face as he took off the rest of his clothes. Draco’s eyes wandered; he couldn’t help it.

“I never had any grey hairs!”

“Yes you did,” Draco shook his head. “You used to pluck them when you thought I wasn’t looking.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and a brief flapping of his wings was the only warning Draco had before he lunged.

“Ah!” Draco tried to throw Harry off of him, but his wrists were caught between a strong grasp above his head. “Quit it.”

When Harry threw his head back and laughed, Draco stilled. The light that shone across Harry’s skin made him look ethereal.

“Beautiful.”

Harry lowered his head a few inches above Draco’s. “Not as beautiful as you.”

When Draco shook his head, he got a scoff in return.

“Draco, I’m a few years shy of forty. You don’t look a day over 18.”

“It’s when I was turned,” Draco reminded him. “On the battlefield at Hogwarts. I may look young but I’m the same age as you, love. Older too.”

“By a month.” Harry tried to sound stern, but Draco could see his lips twitch.

“I love how you look,” Draco pulled his wrists free and traced a finger over Harry’s face. “I love your laugh lines. If I could age, my laugh lines would be because of you. You bring life to my existence.”

“You do the same for me.”

“I know.” And he did. There was so much of his life that was in the air, but with Harry? He knew they were solid.

“If you’re so confident I stopped aging, why are you worried?”

Draco tried to look away, but Harry grabbed his chin and forced their eyes to meet.

“I don’t want to watch the Earth age if you’re not there watching it with me.”

Harry leaned down to kiss Draco’s forehead. “You aren’t ever allowed to call me a sap again.”

Draco tilted his head until Harry’s lips met his own. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and brought them even closer.

When hands roamed up his body underneath the nightgown, Draco broke away from the kiss, breath coming in faster.

“I love how you look too,” Harry whispered against Draco’s neck as he placed open-mouthed kisses in a trail down his skin. “I’d love how you’d look if you could age as well. I’ll always love how you look.”

Draco tilted his head when his collarbone was nipped. “More.”

“I don’t know,” Harry teased, his tongue tracing the path his lips had. “My arse still hurts.”

“That’s why I fingered myself before you came home.”

Harry pulled away and Draco tried to get him to come back, but his hands fell limply on the bed.

“You wanted to seduce me.”

“Did it work?” Draco drawled with an eyebrow arched and a quirk of his lips.

“You tell me.” With a thrust, a half hard cock rubbed against Draco’s stomach.

“We can do better than that,” Draco said before resting a hand on Harry’s trousers over the bulge that was growing harder with the more pressure he applied.

The breathy sigh Harry released went straight to his cock.

“I hope you’re not expecting much, I’m tired as fuck.”

“So sucking my cock is out of the question?” Draco teased. “No multiple rounds?”

Harry huffed, the sound almost a laugh. “I can suck your dick if you want, but definitely only one round.”

“You can suck my dick in the morning,” Draco said as he spread his legs and pushed Harry down the bed. “I really want you inside me.”

The energy that filled the room wasn’t his own—it was enough to have him relaxing and eyes heavy-lidded.

As Harry grabbed the lube potion he discarded earlier in the day, Draco said, “Let me bite you.”

“You want my blood?” An arched brow almost had him flustered. “You shouldn’t need that for at least a week.”

“Gluttony befalls more people than greed.”

One side of Harry’s lips quirked up. “And you’re both.”

It wasn’t even a lie, nor was he going to deny it. He wanted Harry’s blood just because.

“You can have it but only if you give me something in return.”

Draco braced himself on his elbows as he brought his face closer and released a surge of energy. “You want some of my Magic?”

“Mmm.” Harry’s green eyes turned a darker shade at the first sense of freely given Magic.

“I’m not the only one who’s greedy.” Draco knew it wasn’t Harry’s fault. Veela crave Magic, get antsy the longer they don’t absorb excess Magic in the air.

Eyes closed and tongue poking out, Harry slicked his cock with lube and nudged forward. “When I enter you, bite me.”

Draco grabbed Harry’s wrist and held it up to his nose. He couldn’t smell anything other than the soap Harry stole from him. His fangs nicked the skin and the first hint of blood had him groaning. The groan turned into a loud moan when Harry pressed inside him.

He waited until Harry had bottomed out before biting. The cock inside him twitched but Draco knew it wasn’t exactly from pleasure. The bite of a Vampire _stung_. Harry just liked a little pain.

Blood was coppery and it was never pleasant, but the aftertaste, that’s what made it addicting. A rush of someone’s energy, a rush of someone else’s life force, a rush of someone else’s Magic—however little it was—would never be enough, he _always_ craved more.

He fell to gluttony long ago.

When Harry started to move, hips going at a fast pace, Draco threw his head back as his mouth parted in silent pleasure.

Blood trickled down his chin, but he didn’t do anything to get rid of it. Instead, he waited for Harry.

When a tongue travelled the path the blood made, Draco opened his eyes wider to see Harry with his mouth open, the blood pooled on his tongue.

Draco wrapped a hand around Harry’s neck and pulled him closer before kissing him as best as he could. His tongue slipped through easily before he traced the blood and sucked.

A hard thrust had him gripping Harry tighter. “Harder. Faster. _More_.”

The pace didn’t quicken, but the thrusts were harder and that was good enough for him. Draco bent his knees and pulled them back to his chest.

Harry groaned as his cock sunk in deeper. “I could fuck you forever.”

“Yes,” Draco panted. That’s what he wanted. Any kind of forever with Harry. “Please do.”

Harry’s moans reverberated around the room, and he wrapped a hand around Draco’s cock.

“Spread your wings.” It was a demand. “I want to come with your wings visible, you inside me and your hand on my dick.”

His breath caught when Harry’s wings spread out to their full extent. He wanted to bury his fingers in the feathers and feel the softness against his skin.

“I love how much you like them,” Harry grunted, the pace _finally_ picking up. “You get so weak for them.”

“Yes!” Draco cried, both at the statement and at the stimulation to his prostate. “More.”

He knew he wasn’t going to last, not with the constant stimulation. “Just like that, Harry, come on.”

Harry’s lip was caught between his teeth and Draco wished he could bite it. Fuck. He wanted to nick them, draw blood and suck on his bottom lip. Just the idea had his breath coming in quicker.

“I’m close,” Harry warned, eyes already closing.

Draco wanted Harry to finish first, so he grabbed the still bloody wrist and ran his tongue along the skin, knowing it would sting.

“Fuck.” Harry’s hips stuttered. “Again, do it again.”

Draco dug the tip of his tongue in the puncture marks, relishing the little blood that seeped through.

When Harry came, it was with Draco’s name on his lips and a deep throaty groan that had Draco thrusting up into Harry’s hand.

The friction was nice, but he needed more than that.

Draco’s brows furrowed when Harry pulled out. Before he could say anything, two fingers were shoved inside him.

_“Harry.”_

“Say it again.”

When he stayed silent and shook his head, the fingers went harder. “Fuck.”

“Again.”

He refused, still shaking his head. “Make me.”

The hand on his cock tightened and he couldn’t withhold a moan if he wanted to. The pace of both hands increased, and Draco’s concentration started to fail.

“I’m goin—”

“Say my name,” Harry demanded, tone firm and his eyes were still dark.

It wasn’t until a tongue came out to play with the head of his cock did Draco give in and moan Harry’s name as he came.

The tongue continued, cleaning the come that made a mess of his cock and Harry’s hand. Draco had to jerk away when it became too much. “Sensitive.”

There was a whoosh of Magic and Draco felt himself become cleaner; it filled his whole body. Tingles were left as the Magic ebbed and it was one of his favourite parts of sex with Harry.

Clean, sated and tired, Draco relaxed further into the bed, eyes closed, and lips curled upward. At least he was until a heavy weight landed on him.

Draco opened his eyes before rolling them as Harry’s head rested on his chest. “I don’t know why you do that. My heart doesn’t beat anymore.”

“I like the silence,” Harry said as he pinched Draco’s side. “It’s comforting.”

“How is it comforting?” He didn’t have the energy to pinch back, so he held on tighter.

“Veela’s makes so much noise. It gets worse when we’re angry.”

“Oh ho!” Draco snorted. “Don’t I know it.”

A harder pinch had him gritting his teeth.

“All day I have to be around so much noise. I love coming home to your silence.”

It was the opposite for him. Vampires rarely made much noise. He _liked_ how noisy Harry was. “We’re a good match then.”

The comforting silence that followed was almost enough to lull him to sleep but he forced his eyes open. “You never did tell me what happened after you left the court.”

The silence was no longer comfortable, and he tried to shift enough to look at Harry but the vice grip around him was too strong.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Draco stilled, but his magic didn’t. Oh no. His magic grew restless and the energy was picking up.

“Calm down,” Harry mumbled. “I’m fine, you don’t need to hurt anyone.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This hearing won’t be easy.”

Draco snorted. “Anyone could have told you that.”

“I’m going to need help.”

“What do you need me to do?”

Harry lifted his head. His eyes were distracted as he looked at the wall, lost in thought. “I need you to get on the Vampire council.”

Draco’s brows arched at the serious tone. “I’ve been trying for _years_ , you know this.”

“I know, but I can’t win if you’re not on that council.”

“Just what are you planning?” Usually, he was the one with the plan. It was hard not knowing what Harry was up to. He’d ask more than that, but if Harry didn’t want to say, then he wasn’t going to push.

“An infiltration.”

His lips pursed as he thought about it. “You want me on the council to vote yes. My vote isn’t enough to sway the rest of the Vampire council.”

“I need you to _make_ it sway them. At least some of them.”

How? How was he supposed to make Vampires that were hundreds of years old bend to his will?

“By any means necessary?”

The short nod he got in return caused him to suck in a deep breath. Harry meant business.

“I can come up with some ways, but you won’t like it.” There’d be a body count.

“Don’t tell me about it then.”

Draco ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. “My own morality is suspect, something I don’t care about or stop to think of. But yours? Your morals are strong enough for the both us. Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” For the first time since it all began, Harry sounded lost. “I’m so used to doing what’s right for everyone else that I’ve ignored what I want. We deserve to be able to love freely, Draco. So does anyone else. My morality has to be shelved. I’ll worry about it when everything is over.”

That didn’t bode well. Draco already knew he’d be there to help pick up the pieces. No matter what Harry tried to emulate, the death of others was _not_ something he’d ever be okay with.

“You can always blame me,” Draco murmured. He could handle the fallout, could handle the brunt of everything in the end. Better him than Harry.

“No.”

“I keep waiting for the day you stop being so stubborn.”

“You’ll have to wait forever for that.”

Forever. That sounded nice. That’s what he wanted.

A forever with Harry.

But would he get it?

* * *

The sound his heeled boots made against the gaudy vinyl tile echoed around him. Stealth was out the window, but that’s what Draco wanted. Sneak up on a Vampire and the consequences were deadly. Boldly facing them, however, granted the upper hand.

Brick walls painted black, and that paired with no source of light left an atmosphere that was far too cheesy and predictable. Lorian always was one for dramatics.

“Malfoy.”

It was disembodied, and it didn’t make him pause. Lorian’s tricks might have affected someone else, but it wouldn’t fool him. 

When he reached the centre of a hallway that led into multiple paths, he stopped.

“I don’t have much time, and it’s already wasted on you,” Draco drawled before he looked up at an arched ceiling where Lorian was levitating. “Quit the theatrics.”

Instead of a graceful descent, Lorian went for speed, feet hitting the ground with a resounding clang.

“Speak to me with respect, I am your elder.”

Draco scoffed. “Respect is not automatic; it is freely given when _I_ choose so. Why would I respect those that do not return the favour?”

“I don’t have to respect you,” Lorian said as a finger tapped against a fang. Whether it was a threat, Draco did not know. “I am a council member.”

As if he could ever forget.

“That’s what has saved you all of these years,” Draco smirked.

A flash of confusion only heightened Draco’s smirk.

“I’ve dreamed about this day for so long.” The _years_ he had fantasized had finally come to fruition.

Lorian took a step back when Draco took one forward. “I don’t know what your plan was coming here but don’t think for a second that you’ll succeed.”

“Do you remember the first words you ever told me?” Draco asked as he unsheathed a dagger.

Lorian moved to leave, but Draco was fuelled by anger and threw his hand out, no intent in mind and watched in awe as snakes appeared from the ground and wound themselves around Lorian—binding him immobile. He wondered if it was a by-product of mating with Harry.

“A dagger won’t—”

 _“Answer me!”_ Draco yelled, and the ground shook beneath his feet hard enough that rubble fell from the ceiling.

“I don’t remember,” Lorian said before jerking away from a forked tongue working its way up to his face.

The sound of Draco’s boots was the only noise outside of the hissing snakes as he walked forward. Lorian’s eyes were on the dagger in Draco’s hand, the one that now moved back and forth slowly.

“Tell me,” Draco said as he trailed the dagger up Lorian’s cheek, not enough pressure to cut but enough to leave fear in its wake.

When he received a shake of a head in reply, Draco slashed the dagger down Lorian’s cheek, revelling the scream that echoed.

“You were right,” he whispered. “A regular dagger wouldn’t have hurt you, but this one is dipped in snake venom.”

Lorian sucked in a sharp breath as he tried to fight off the snakes that were tightening their grasp.

“You have less than a half-hour before the snake venom begins to fight your own venom. I’d love to see which one would prevail, but unfortunately, you’ll be dead before then.”

“What is it you want?” Lorian cried as a snake wrapped around his throat.

“You already know,” Draco tsked. “Answer the question.”

Lorian closed his eyes in defeat. “The forsaken are damned.”

Draco stabbed Lorian in the stomach as his mind repeated the sentence over and over. “You attacked me when my back was turned like the coward you’ve always been. Only then, I was 18. I woke up dead, the wound on my neck still throbbing and the blood on my neck not even dry, and _that’s_ the first thing you say.”

Several snakes bit into Lorian’s skin at the same time and the screaming never stopped.

“Vampires revere their maker. Tradition dictates consent above all else. But you? You took that from me. Not only was I forsaken by Wizard-kind but by my own fucking Sire. You wanted to damn me to a prison of your own creation. _Fuck you_.”

Watching the snakes bite over and over was enough for him. He sheathed his dagger and stood back, taking it all in.

“Your status as a council member was the only reason I didn’t kill you. But now? Now I get your death _and_ your seat in the court.”

Lorian opened his mouth but all that came out was blood.

“Not much longer,” Draco taunted. “Talk among the town is that you’re over two hundred years old. Let’s find out.”

The wide-eyed look he got only made him smirk. When Vampires die, their dead body reverts to what it should have been before becoming one, and he couldn’t wait to see the result.

With the snakes added assistance the half-hour window shrunk in half. Draco watched curiously as Lorian’s body began to shift, the skin seemed tighter, his eyes stayed the same as the lids shrunk making them appear larger.

“Any last words?” Draco asked knowing that he wouldn’t be able to speak at all. “An apology perhaps?”

Lorian moved his head to the side as if preparing to shake his head but that was the last movement he made before he crumbled into decaying bones and ashes. 

“Looks like the gossip was right,” Draco whispered. Half the snakes disappeared when Lorian died, but the remaining ones slid up his body and lightly wrapped around him. One on his waist, one on each arm and another around his neck.

“Not sure where you all came from,” Draco said, a finger rubbing the top of one of the snake’s heads. “But you can come home with me. I know someone who’d love to talk to you.”

There was no clean-up, no covering up the remains of the body, nothing to hide that someone had been there. The absence of something could be far more suspicious than the visible evidence.

Draco wanted Lorian to be found. He wanted there to be an investigation, he wanted the Vampire council to worry what that meant for them.

Let them come.

Let them fear.

* * *

When Draco entered their flat, he expected it to be empty, he expected to have a few hours to himself but what he hadn’t expected was for Harry to be waiting for him just beyond the doorway.

“Harry,” Draco greeted with a slight smile as he kissed him on the cheek. “No council work tonight?”

“There was, but it was cancelled when the siren went off.”

“Oh?” He tried to appear nonchalant but when Harry’s eyes narrowed, he knew it hadn’t worked.

“Wouldn’t normally have been alerted so soon,” Harry continued, arms folded across his chest as he watched one of the snakes on Draco move around. “But the death of a council member raises alarm.”

“A council member,” Draco gasped, eyes wide. “Who would do something like that?”

“Someone who feared nothing.”

That wasn’t necessarily what he felt, but he shrugged. “Did they tell you who it was?”

“No,” Harry said before extending a hand toward one of the snakes on Draco’s arm. The snake was hissing and the longer it did, the more Harry’s head tilted sideways. “All we were told was it was someone from the Vampire council.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out tomorrow.”

Harry arched his brows when the other snakes began to hiss too. “Where did you get them? They are rather fond of you.”

Draco smiled down at the one on his arm. “I summoned them somehow. I’m not sure how real they are.”

_“Saha fasifʃe athnedernʃi baʃ Ara ʃe ai tikan suvaʃe.”_

Draco startled at the parseltongue. It had been a long time since Harry had last used it around him. He shifted a bit when the hissing sounds from Harry’s mouth grew softer. Fuck. It was _not_ the time to get horny.

When Harry’s head snapped up with eyes full of concern Draco’s head jerked back.

“What?”

“They said they are a manifestation of your pain.”

Pain? Draco’s eyes fell the snake on Harry’s arm. “I’m not hurt.”

Harry held out his free hand for Draco to take. “Not that kind of pain.”

Oh.

Draco let himself be pulled into a hug. His eyes closed when he was surrounded by wings.

_*pop*_

The weight on his neck disappeared and Draco knew the snake had been de-summoned.

“I love you,” Harry whispered. Another pop and the snake on Harry’s arm disappeared. “Even though you killed someone.”

The chuckle he let out was a bit wet and Harry’s arms tightened.

“I’m okay.” He wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not. A twenty-year-old grudge was hard to let go of.

“Are you really?”

“I don’t know.” The admittance hurt. Draco didn’t like not knowing things. “How do you let go of something that hurt for so long?”

“Past hurt? Or will it continue to hurt?”

“Past as of today.”

Harry let out a rough exhale. “Time, I imagine. The anger hurts more than the pain.”

Anger. He _was_ angry. _So angry_. And Lorian wasn’t alive to feel the leftover hurt that had festered over the years.

“Who was it?”

“Lorian Demoni.”

The air of a low whistle brushed the top of his head and Draco couldn’t help but smile.

“I can’t say I’ll miss him.”

“Me either,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s neck.

“How did you do it?”

“I thought you didn’t want to know.”

When he tilted his head back enough to see Harry’s face, he wasn’t surprised at the hesitation he could decipher.

“I want to share your pain.”

Draco’s heart clenched. Merlin, he loved Harry.

 _*pop*_ The last two snakes disappeared.

“I stabbed him with a dagger laced in snake venom.”

Another whistle. Harry’s eyes were wide. “That had to hurt. Did he stand a chance? What did his venom do?”

“I’m not sure,” shrugged Draco. “I know the two different venoms fought but I think in the end, they both attacked his body.”

It was the only thing that made sense to him. It hadn’t been enough snake venom to replace the venom already inside of Lorian. But it _was_ enough to corrupt it.

“Sometimes, your mind scares me.”

Draco laughed before jumping up and wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist. “Good.” Killing had been his job in the past after all. One he kind of missed.

“I talked to someone who can help with the Goblin council.”

“Who? We don’t know any Goblins like that.”

“ _You_ don’t,” Harry kissed the tip of Draco’s nose as he moved them to the bedroom. “I do. Griphook.”

Draco looked around dramatically. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

His sass earned him being tossed onto the bed with a plop. The smugness to Harry’s face when Draco glared look wrong. Smug was _his_ thing.

“Griphook helped me during the war. The bastard stole Gryffindor’s sword from me.”

“Wait,” Draco held a hand up. “Like _the_ Gryffindor’s sword?”

“The one and only.”

Draco’s lips pursed, but his mind became distracted when Harry started undressing. “How did you get it?”

“That’s a story for another day,” Harry said with a wink over his shoulder. “I told him I’ll tell him where it’s at now if he helps.”

He didn’t want to wait. “How is he going to help?”

“His father is on the council.”

Father. Just how long did Goblin’s live? Had one ever said?

“And his father is a nice progressive Goblin that is willing to throw out centuries of archaic traditions and rules?”

Harry snorted as he kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the middle of the room where Draco has told him _numerous_ times not to.

“No. His father is old and senile but easily manipulated.”

“Griphook is my kind of person.” Draco was impressed. “It’s a shame that never worked on my father.”

Harry’s forehead wrinkled as he turned to face Draco in his naked glory. “Your father died in the war.”

“Exactly, it was a missed opportunity.”

Morbid humour was his speciality. Part of him would always miss who his father could have been, but he didn’t miss the person who had existed.

When Harry was close enough to the bed, Draco pulled until he was encased in a familiar warmth.

“If everything goes well with whatever the hell your plan with the Vampire council is,” Harry began, a hand running through Draco’s hair. “And if Griphook does his job, and if I can get Ambarella on my side, then all that’s left is the Werewolves.”

“Werewolves aren’t going to listen to you,” Draco snorted.

“Which is why I need you to find us a way in.”

“Why am I the one doing all the hard work?”

Harry scoffed, and Draco was not amused.

“I have to work equally as hard.”

He wanted to call bullshit, but it wasn’t worth the fight. He was too exhausted. Maybe in the morning.

“Do you know any Werewolves?” Harry asked, his fingers still running through Draco’s hair.

“One,” Draco grimaced. “But she’s not going to want to see me.”

“I need you to go anyway.”

“I think you should do it.”

“Why? You said it yourself. Werewolves aren’t going to react well to a Veela.”

“Yeah,” Draco shrugged. “But you didn’t make fun of her in Hogwarts like I did.”

Harry stilled and he kind of regretted bringing it up at all.

“Who?”

“Brown.”

Harry sat up and it forced Draco to as well.

“Lavender Brown? She died in the war. Greyback killed her.”

Draco blinked rapidly before shaking his head. “No, he didn’t. He attacked her, and she turned.”

“Her name is on the war memorial and everything,” Harry argued. “I went to her funeral.”

“There was a funeral?” Draco didn’t understand. “I know she didn’t die because Hemlock sent me to break up a Werewolf rebellion a year after I died.”

Harry’s head jerked as his face scrunched up. “I wish you’d quit describing it like that. You aren’t dead.”

Half of Draco’s face lifted as he shook his head a few times. “Am I though? Am I really?”

“We’re not having this fight again,” Harry flicked him in the nose. “Why would you intervene in Werewolf issues?”

He didn’t want to answer that. Draco’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of the sheet and wouldn’t look up.

“The Werewolf council wanted them gone.”

A shaky exhale was his response and Draco tensed. Harry was so _good_. Too good.

“I didn’t kill them if that helps,” Draco mumbled. “When I got there, they were forsaken just like me.”

“You’re not forsaken, what are you on about?”

Draco shrugged. He’d always felt abandoned until Harry. Forsaken had been a personal badge, one that had started as an insult until he took pride in it. He hadn’t ever needed someone else. The forsaken were _not_ damned, regardless of what Lorian thought.

A gentle grip to his chin had him looking up. Harry’s eyes weren’t pitying or sad, but they held a lot of emotion, and Draco wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“The council abandoned them,” whispered Draco, eyes begging him to understand what wasn’t said. “The Ministry doesn’t give a damn about Magical Creatures. Our wands were stripped from us, I’m lucky I was able to learn the bit of Magic I do have without a conduit. They weren’t as lucky.”

“So you let them go.” It wasn’t a question.

Draco shrugged again. “I told Lorian they were gone by the time I got there and that they had left in different routes so there wasn’t a definitive trail to follow.”

Harry’s thumb caressed his cheek and Draco kissed whatever he could reach. “And the truth?”

“They never saw me. I watched from a distance. But I _know_ Brown was there. She looked sick, but she was alive.”

Harry bit his lip and Draco couldn’t tell if he was angry.

“I don’t know why she never went back, but I get it.” When Harry glared at him, he raised his hands in surrender. “You don’t understand what we go through.”

When Harry’s hand fell and his mouth parted, Draco could see the hurt.

“You don’t think I know—”

Draco placed a finger against angry lips before shushing him. “As much as you hate your status and fame, you reap the benefits of it. The Ministry might sneer behind your back, but they treat you with a respect that the rest of us Magical Creatures don’t get. Wizards will revere you but shun us in the same breath.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“I know,” Draco cupped Harry’s cheeks. “It’s not something you can change. But it prevents you from truly feeling what we face.”

“I face discrimination too.”

“I know you do, love. I’m not saying you don’t. I’m not saying our pain is worse than yours, I’m saying yours comes with a privilege we’ll never have.”

The anger had left his face and was replaced with a confused wariness. “And how do you understand her choices?”

“Those who remember her are going to know she left fighting, and she did, she just didn’t die. If she had stayed, no one would look at her and remember her bravery, all they’d see is a Werewolf.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Werewolf!”

Sometimes he wondered how Harry could be so naive and innocent. Draco tried caressing Harry’s face to smooth out the wrinkles left behind from anger, but he wasn’t as good at it, and it felt like the pressure was too hard.

“When people think of me, they remember a Death Eater who got what he deserved. The Malfoy name is remembered as a disgrace. The prejudice I once gave is now the fuel they use to throw it right back at me since their status is above mine. To them, I’m nothing but a Magical Creature who doesn’t belong.” 

“They’re wrong.” The fierce protection warmed his heart and it was such a _Harry_ thing to say.

“I know that, and you know that, but society doesn’t view it the same way. There will be those that think like us, but they are the minority and unfortunately, the majority is what speaks louder. I think Brown left to preserve who she had once been.”

The anger was still prominent on Harry’s face and it wasn’t surprising. “And the Werewolf council abandoned her?”

“I don’t know what happened,” Draco’s thumb gently swiped along his lips. “All I know is that the Werewolf council wanted them gone but didn’t want to dirty their hands. I was sent in.”

“Why you?” The barely concealed suspicion was amusing. That was a look he hadn’t seen since they first crossed paths after the war.

“You know why,” Draco said, tone pointed in a way he didn’t usually direct at Harry. “I was their greatest weapon. Too angry at the world but no one to direct it toward. So they gave me targets.”

Most of the people they sent him after weren’t good, but in the end, did that matter? He wasn’t so sure. Right and wrong had blurred long ago and all he was left with was a wall of grey in the middle.

“You really do scare me at times.”

Draco couldn’t quite pull off a smirk with how fond he felt, it was more of a smile. “I quit long before we met again. That’s why they won’t give me a council position. I said no to them and they didn’t like that.”

“No one says no to the council.”

“I did,” Draco said as he pressed a kiss to Harry’s nose. “So did you.”

Harry’s grin was goofy, and it reminded him of their youth. It was a smile he had seen across the Great Hall but one that had never been directed at him.

“Yeah, but I always say no. I said no to Umbridge, Voldemort, Scrimmager, the Ministry anyone else who pissed me off.”

There was that privilege again. He might have been upset at that if Harry had been around during Draco’s first few years as a Vampire, but it didn’t bother him now. The world was unfair and complaining about it was time wasted.

“We can’t all be fearless Veelas.”

Harry’s smile grew soft, and that was his favourite one to see. “I like you how you are.”

“Fangs and all?” Draco teased, purposefully elongating them.

“Especially your fangs.”

Draco grinned at the way Harry waggled his brows.

“You know I love everything about you too,” he said before shifting their positions so he could lay down again.

“No, you only love me for my wings,” Harry said with a yawn. “I long ago accepted that.”

“Speaking of your wings.” He tried not to grin, but he couldn’t withhold it when Harry glared. “Can I have—”

“No!” Harry threw the duvet over his face, shutting Draco out. “You can’t have any more of my feathers.”

“But there’s a pretty fuchsia one I saw earlier, and I need it.”

Green eyes peeked out and he wished it didn’t look so endearing. “You don’t _need_ it, you want it.”

“My wants are my needs.”

“Merlin, you are spoiled.”

“By you.”

Harry rolled his eyes before going back under the duvet. “The answer is no. You can’t have it.”

“You know I’ll get it eventually.” He always did.

“We’ll see.”

They both knew he’d get it. His collection had grown over the years, there was always a new hue or shade and Draco wanted them. He wanted all the parts of Harry he could have.

Feathers included.

* * *

Draco stood outside of a quaint little house in the middle of a tiny village. The town was made up of four houses and one shop that was the size of a broom closet.

He didn’t want to go in there. Facing the past was never a good idea, the past wasn’t supposed to enter the present. Fuck that.

A deep breath, a half-arsed pep-talk and dozens of regrets later, Draco walked up to the door. Knocking was polite, a courtesy even. But Draco had never been polite, and courtesy wasn’t in his vocabulary.

With a whispered intent, the door swung open, startling the occupants inside. 

There was a lot of positive things that Harry brought to Draco’s life. A lot of things he’d forever be grateful for.

But this? This was all Harry’s fault.

“Fuck,” Draco swore when a knife hit him in the chest.

_“Mum! What are you doing?”_

He had to lean against the door frame as he pulled out the knife.

“Lovely to see you, Brown. This how you greet everyone?”

“Fuck off.”

When Draco looked around, he was surprised to see a teenager. Brown had a spawn? The boy looked so much like her; it was uncanny.

“I’m so sorry, my mum was just startled. Do you need some bandages or a healing potion? I think I’ve still got one around here.”

“Declan, step away from him.”

Well, Declan certainly was a lot nicer than his mother. Blue eyes were staring at him in concern and Draco was almost touched. What stood out the most was a mess of wavy hair that could rival Harry’s.

“I’m fine,” Draco tried to wave him off, but Declan wouldn’t take no for an answer.

When his shirt was opened and the wound was slowly closing, Declan jumped back toward Brown with wide eyes.

“What _are_ you?”

Brown said nothing, only watched Draco with narrowed eyes, another knife in her hand and he wouldn’t put it past her to throw that one too.

His fangs elongated as he smirked. The fear that had been in Declan’s eyes was replaced with awe.

“I’ve read about Vampires! Is it true you secrete poison when angry?”

Draco snorted harshly. “No. Poison doesn’t harm us though.”

“Whoa,” Declan whistled. “Think of the possibilities.”

“Oh, I have.”

There was a wicked gleam to his eyes, and it reminded Draco of the Weasley twins. Merlin, Brown definitely had her hands full.

Brown stepped in front of her son, much to Declan’s loud complaint. “What do you want Malfoy?”

The sound of Declan repeating his name in confusion had Draco wincing. It wouldn’t take long before he figured out just who Draco was.

“I was sent here by an old friend of yours.”

“I doubt that,” Brown snarled. “Friends from my past think I died.”

“Well, then there’s one alive who knows.” Draco shut the door with another whispered intent and sat down on a kitchen chair and folded his hands behind his head.

“Leave.”

Draco arched a brow. “You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?”

“You’ve never had anything noteworthy to say before, why should that have changed over the years.”

“Mum, he’s my age, don’t be so mean.”

Of all the insults he’s heard over the years, that one hurt the most.

“I am old enough to be your father, kid.”

Declan grimaced before shuffling a little bit away.

“Harry sent me here.”

When Brown frowned and said, “Harry Potter?” Draco tried not to gape.

“Do you know any other Harry’s?”

“Well yeah,” Declan frowned too. “It’s a common name.”

Maybe for Muggles. Draco hadn’t encountered another Harry. “Harry Potter, that’s who sent me.”

Brown sat down across from him, gesturing for Declan to do the same. “You expect me to believe that? Why would Harry send you? I can’t imagine he can tolerate you.”

Draco’s nose scrunched up as he thought about it. “He tolerates me just fine. It’s really only when I vanish the shite he leaves on the floor that he works himself into a right snit.”

The look on Brown’s face almost made up for getting stabbed. Almost.

“You’re with Harry?”

“Have been for years.”

Declan leaned forward after sharing a look with his mother. “But that’s not allowed.”

There was something going on, something he wasn’t aware of. Draco narrowed his eyes as he looked between them. Declan’s tone had been wary but also scared.

“It’s taboo for sure,” he shrugged. “It’s only illegal if you mate.”

Declan’s fingers tapped along the table in a fit of nervousness that intrigued him.

“What does Harry want from me? I haven’t seen him in what, 19 years?”

Had it really been that long? Time flew fast when one was dead.

“He needs your help with the Werewolf council.”

The closed-off anger on Brown’s face was startling. “No. I’ll never set foot in that court again.”

“I don’t blame you,” Draco hedged, hands up when her grip on the knife tightened. “I wouldn’t be here if we weren’t desperate.”

“What’s been happening?”

“Declan!”

“What? He came here for a reason.”

Brown turned a glare on her son and Draco was glad it wasn’t directed at him. “For once in your life, will you listen to what I tell you?”

Declan ignored her to look back at Draco. “What’s happened?”

Draco liked him; he was rather fond. “A Werewolf petitioned the court to be allowed to mate her Vampire partner.”

When both of them straightened, he _knew_ something else was going on. What were they hiding? Was it enough to matter?

“I imagine she was denied,” Brown said dryly. “The Animatio Court is set in their ways.”

“It was,” Draco gestured with his palms. “But she requested a hearing.”

“And that didn’t get denied?” Declan asked too intently to not have some kind of stake on the outcome.

“Harry said yes.”

Brown sucked in a sharp breath as she and Declan turned toward each other.

“Mum.”

“No, we can’t.”

“But—”

“It’s dangerous, Declan.”

Draco’s head moved back and forth between them, confusion mounting the longer they argued.

“If it passes then—”

Declan was cut off when Brown held up a hand. “How many others said yes?”

“Just Harry.” The reluctance was clearly audible and Draco wished he hadn’t admitted it.

“See?” Brown threw her hands in the air. “What is one person going to do? If we get involved it won’t end well.”

Declan clenched his jaw as he shook his head before turning back to Draco. “I’ll help you.”

“You can’t—” Brown started.

“I’m 17!” Declan yelled. “You can’t stop me.”

As the two stared at each other, the silence grew stifling. Thank fuck he never had any kids.

“Someone mind telling me what’s going on?” Draco drawled, sneering when Brown glared at him.

When no one said anything, he debated about leaving and telling Harry it was a lost cause.

Brown looked at her son as she took a deep breath. “My son is in love with a Veela.”

“So?” Draco didn’t see the issue. “He’s human, no laws against that.”

Declan shifted nervously before he tugged on his robes showing a giant scar that was undeniably from a Werewolf.

Draco sat back with a huff. That complicated things. “How did you get bit?”

“Does it matter?” Brown’s tone was harsh, but she didn’t intimidate him. Nothing did except for Harry in a full Veela shift while angry. He arched a brow in response and watched her roll her eyes.

“I—” Declan closed his eyes. “Nayden and I were on a date and we came across a group of Werewolves and Vampires fighting.”

“What kind of fighting?” Draco asked, ignoring the glare sent his way. “Was it the full moon?”

When Declan nodded, he snorted, this time both of them glared. “They weren’t fighting, it was a skirmish.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Werewolves and Vampires are competitive by nature but get along better than they do with other Magical Creatures. On the full moon, there are competitions to see who will be the last one standing. Both sides go one at a time until the final duo is left, and the winner takes all.”

“That’s barbaric,” Brown said with wrinkled brows. “I’ve never partaken in that.”

Probably because she had never been a part of an actual pack, but he didn’t want to say that, not with the hostile atmosphere.

“Have you ever entered?” Declan asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Draco shook his head at the memories that resurfaced. “I used to win them too.”

Brown rolled her eyes and he was reminded of why he had never liked her in school.

“You thought it was a fight? Then what?”

“We broke it up.”

Draco sat up straighter with arched brows. “You got between a Werewolf and a Vampire? _Willingly?_ ”

“We thought they were in trouble!”

Oh, Merlin. Idiots.

“You got bit?”

He didn’t need the nod from Declan, it wasn’t really a question. “Did Nayden get bit too?”

“No,” Declan frowned. “He was fine. Can a Werewolf turn a Vampire?”

That was a good question. “No. But I do believe a Vampire could turn a Werewolf.”

“Why?” Declan asked as his eyes lit up. Draco was reminded of Granger. Someone so keen to know more.

“Vampire venom attacks anything that’s entered into the bloodstream. A Werewolf bite would get healed before anything could take effect.”

“Wouldn’t the same happen if reversed?”

Draco arched a brow. “You should know better than anyone that being a Werewolf doesn’t mean you heal any quicker.”

“I’ve never been hurt,” Declan argued, lips pursed and there was an angry scrunch to his nose.

“Lucky you.”

Brown placed her hands on the table. “I won’t sit on the council.”

“They wouldn’t want you.”

Declan glared at Draco and he tried not to snort. It was the truth, why sugar-coat it?

“I want you to find the weakest one on the Werewolf council. Find their flaws, dirty deeds, and anything else that we can use against them.”

With Brown’s background in a Werewolf rebellion, she would know her way around the law.

“That sounds like blackmail,” Declan leaned away from the table, face twisted in some kind of disgust.

“That’s exactly what it is.” He let his smirk showcase his fangs just to see Declan move even further away.

“Stop scaring my son,” Brown said but the heat wasn’t really there. “Say I do this, then what?”

“Then we have a shot at making history,” whispered Draco. “It gives everyone a chance at love. It opens the door for other changes to come. We want to fight back, and this is the only way we can.”

Brown turned to her son. They said nothing, only stared at each other again. He wondered what they were experiencing. Did they have some kind of undetectable bond?

“Let me think about it,” Brown said, eyes still on her son.

“Mum—”

“I’m not saying no.” She reached out to hold Declan’s hand. “I don’t want to rush into this. If I get caught, they’ll get rid of me.”

Declan closed his eyes tightly and nodded. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Draco said as he stood up, not bothering to push the chair in. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Oh joy.”

He certainly hadn’t missed her. A lovely person.

“You think we could start over?” Draco asked as he held out a hand.

“No.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” It was worth a shot.

With a parting farewell, another deep breath and still too many regrets, Draco left.

Only, he wasn’t sure anything would come of it.

* * *

There were a lot of things that Draco didn’t want to do, and sitting across from Hemlock in a dusty office topped the list.

“I’m sure you know why you are here.”

The lack of eye contact was a slight and Draco refused to answer until Hemlock put down the book he hadn’t been reading.

“Actually, I don’t. I was in the lab making salves, the Goblins put in a hefty order.”

Hemlock folded his hands under his chin and narrowed his eyes. “Lorian was murdered.”

“I know,” Draco shrugged. “Am I supposed to care?”

“Not even an attempt at sympathy?”

“Ha!” Draco snorted and slapped his knee. “We both know what kind of person he was.”

The arched brow didn’t bode well but he wasn’t in the mood to care. “And you think he deserved it?”

“Oh,” Draco leaned forward, hoping his face was as menacing as his tone was. “I think he was lucky. He deserved far worse.”

When Hemlock leaned back and regarded Draco intently, he adopted a look of innocence that no one would buy.

“Spoken like a man who wanted revenge.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Draco snarled. “If I wanted to kill Lorian there wouldn’t have been a body, a whisper of his disappearance and there certainly wouldn’t have been any evidence left behind.

“You should know,” he taunted, tone barely above a whisper. “After all, I was a killer for hire, for _you_.”

Nothing was said as Hemlock continued to stare. There was a familiar coldness to him, but what was truly surprising was he looked unsure.

“Was I only summoned here to be the victim of your accusations?”

It was a thinly veiled threat. Accusations had to be in court with witnesses.

“No.”

Draco placed his feet on the desk and gestured for Hemlock to continue, smirking at the fanged snarl sent his way.

“There is a matter of the council.”

“What’s that got to do with me? I’m not even the next in line for consideration.”

“But Valentine is,” Hemlock said, eyes narrowed on Draco’s face.

Valentine was a conniving two-faced bitch who had no loyalties and would sooner kill someone before ever offering help. She was just the kind of person he liked to align himself with. 

“She’ll make a good council member.” It wasn’t even a lie. She was ruthless enough to tear down people and destroy lives. The perfect politician.

Hemlock looked away and that was the moment Draco knew his plan had succeeded.

“Lorian’s death could only be for advantageous gains and Valentine is the main beneficiary.”

“It’s not really her style,” Draco pointed out. “She’s vicious but not stupid.”

“Be that as it may,” Hemlock began, eyes still narrowed. “The rest of the council is hesitant to allow her entry.”

“I’m still waiting for the part where I’m supposed to care.”

The narrowed eyes turned into a glare. “Your name was suggested by three members.”

Three? That was a surprise. He didn’t think anyone on the Vampire council even liked him.

“That’s the majority, and unfortunately, your lack of decorum and decency is moot. Despite my objections, you are now the next in line.”

A lack of decency, Draco could see. But a lack of decorum? That was just downright insulting.

“I bet that just kills you, doesn’t it?”

“Watch yourself,” Hemlock snarled, jagged nails raised as a threat.

“You don’t scare me,” whispered Draco as he stood up and placed is hands on the desk. “You were only ever the money bag; I was the hired manpower.”

“Are you threatening me?” Hemlock stood up as well. “You’d do well to remember _I_ am the chairman of the Vampire council.”

Draco couldn’t help but smirk. “For now.”

As they stared at each other, he knew that Hemlock _knew_ what had really happened to Lorian. But there wasn’t a damn thing that could be done about it. 

“A pleasure to see you,” Draco drawled as he made his way to the door. “As always, I hope you choke.”

Something slammed against the door as it shut, and he knew it would have maimed him had it made contact. Hemlock always did like cheap shots like the coward he was.

As he started the trek to the floo hub, he wondered if Harry’s plans were going as smoothly as his own. Well, if murder counted as smoothly that is.

Part of him missed the hunts, tracking down targets, enjoying the thrill of the chase. But anger had been the only thing fuelling him then. Now? Now he enjoyed a simpler life. One where he could brew potions, experiment with his Magic and be home in time for Harry to get off work.

Where anger had once saved him in the past, love was what kept him alive in the present.

Love as strength was such a light mentality that it made him sick. But the depths of love came in layers and his were strong. Strong enough to burden the anger and embrace the pain.

Harry would be proud.

* * *

Before Draco could fully enter the dark flat, he was pulled into a strong embrace and snogged so thoroughly he got dizzy.

“Good evening to me,” he mumbled against Harry’s lips before kissing him again and again.

“I hear congratulations are in order.”

Ah. The council.

“Bad news sure travels fast.”

“Thank you,” Harry said before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It was a lot to ask of you.”

No, it wasn’t. “As if I’d pass up an opportunity to get rid of Lorian _and_ piss off Hemlock at the same time.”

Harry winced. “How upset was Hemlock?”

“As close to frothing as he can get.”

“I don’t know why you test people so much,” Harry said, pulling him closer. “It’ll backfire one day.”

“I can handle it.”

Before Harry could respond, the wards surrounding the flat pulsed, and they both stiffened.

“Did you invite anyone?” Draco asked as he felt his magic rush to his fingertips, static power shooting out on instinct.

“No,” Harry said, peering through the curtains. “It looks like a lady and two teenagers.”

 _Oh_.

“Wait—” Harry yelled when Draco’s hand closed over the doorknob. “We don’t even know who that is.”

“Duck.”

“I— _what?_ ”

When Draco opened the door, he ducked and prayed Harry did too. The sound of a knife hitting the wall behind them had annoyance and fondness equally welling up.

“That wallpaper was expensive,” Draco complained darkly, opening the door wider and letting Brown in.

“I sure hope so,” Brown said, tone matching his own. “You deserve it.”

“Lavender?” Harry asked, and Draco hated the hesitance and unsure demeanour. He wanted to comfort, but it wasn’t needed as Brown rushed forward and embraced Harry tightly.

“Merlin,” Brown breathed, an actual smile on her face. “I haven’t seen you outside of brief Prophet articles.”

“You still read that trash?” Draco sneered. The Prophet was filled with mindless drivel and propaganda.

Without looking at him, Brown unsheathed a knife and threw it at him. Draco was quick enough to avoid it hitting his chest again, but it lodged into his shoulder.

 _“Ow,_ you fucking bit—”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harm him,” Harry said before pulling the knife out. Draco felt a rush of foreign Magic encase his body. His eyes closed on instinct at the gentle prodding toward his Magical core. It always fascinated him how different they wielded Magic. Where he needed intent to guide his Magic into working, Harry only needed to _feel_.

There was only a dull ache left in his shoulder as it was healed.

“Thank you,” Draco said, pulling Harry down for a kiss. “I would have healed on my own.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain.” It was said against his lips and he smiled in reply. Harry was always a worrier.

“I guess he wasn’t lying about you two being together.”

“Isn’t he a bit old for him?”

Both Harry and Draco glared at Brown and whoever said that.

“Can one of you light a candle or something?” Brown asked as she squinted around the flat. “It’s fucking dark in here.”

Draco hadn’t even noticed, but he was surprised that Harry hadn’t lit one himself. When he glanced at him, there was surprise on Harry’s face too.

“Are you a _Vampire_?”

A bright-eyed teen with hair so long that it could have rivalled his father’s when alive stared at him with the same awe that Declan had.

“I _told_ you,” Declan said with a touch of exasperation.

“You must be Nayden.”

Nayden and Declan shared a look before nodding in unison.

“My dad says to never trust a Vampire and to always carry a silver pendant for protection.”

“Oh?” Draco leaned forward before winking. “You want to know a secret?”

Nayden’s nodded so rapidly that his hair fell into his face.

“Silver doesn’t harm us.”

Both Nayden and Declan’s mouth parted. “But that’s what they teach in school!”

“Take it from me kid, school is a waste of time and you’d be better off dropping out.”

He sidestepped the smack Harry tried to land on his arm and ignored the glare from Brown.

“Oi!” Brown cried out. “Don’t teach my son shite like that.”

“It’s okay Miss Lavender,” Nayden whispered in a tone that carried around the room. “We already knew school was useless.”

Declan and Draco laughed at the flabbergasted outrage on her face. Merlin, baiting Brown was too easy.

“But your dad was right about one thing,” Draco said, fangs and nails elongating. “Never trust a Vampire.”

He took pleasure in the way all three of them took a step back.

“What’s that liquid?” Nayden pointed at Draco’s mouth. “It’s gross looking.”

A swipe of his finger against his teeth showed a sticky yellow substance. “It’s my venom, want a taste?” It was offered with an extended arm, and he smirked when they took another step back.

“No?” Draco shrugged before sucking the venom off his finger. “Your loss. It’s rather sweet.”

“Is he serious?” Brown asked Harry as she gestured toward him.

“It _is_ sweet,” Harry said with a scrunch of his nose. “A tad bitter too.”

“No, I—” Brown frowned. “How would _you_ know?”

When Harry flushed, Draco couldn’t help but smirk at the memories of feeding hum venom during a rather kinky night.

“What are you doing here?” Draco asked, to save Harry from more embarrassment. “Last I heard from you was that you needed to think about it.”

“She did, we fought, she cried, I broke a vase, I cried, apologies were exchanged, I got three batches of treacle tart out of it and here we are.”

“Uh-huh,” Draco said slowly as he blinked at Declan. “And what have you decided?”

Brown took a deep breath before looking at Harry. “I’ll help you, but my son stays out of it.”

“Mum! That’s not—”

“No, Declan. It’s my only request. I can’t concentrate if I know you’re caught up in all of this too. Either I help or we go back home. Which is it?”

Declan kicked the ground with his foot and Draco could see how upset he was. It was hard to think of himself ever being that age and so carefree.

Nayden stepped closer and locked eyes with Declan. It was easier to read whatever they had rather than Declan and Brown. Parental love was a foreign concept. Merlin knew he never had that. But the love between partners? That was clear. The two might have been young and foolish but they were in love.

“Okay,” Declan whispered, eyes still on Nayden. “I’ll stay out of it.”

“Thank you.”

When Brown, Declan and Nayden hugged each other, Draco felt as if they were intruding and it was quite uncomfortable. He looked at Harry and mumbled, “You want to make out or something?”

A shove to his shoulder had him retaliating and before he knew it, he was being held up to the ceiling as Harry’s wings flapped.

“Put me down.” He tried not to squirm when Harry’s hands began to wiggle. He was _not_ ticklish.

“Only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself.”

“You started it!”

“I’m ending it.”

“Potter, I swear if you don’t put me down, I won’t be held accountable for what I do to you.”

Harry’s mouth parted but his eyes sparkled in a way that Draco hated that he loved. “What are you going to do to me?”

Before Draco could even utter a threat, he was tossed into the air and his stomach lurched. His eyes closed as the floor become a lot closer than it was before.

Strong arms wrapped around him and when he looked, he was inches from the floor. “I hate you so much.”

“Remember that the next time you think I’m easily beaten.”

Draco jerked out of Harry’s hold on him, only to stand up and glare. “This means war.”

The smirk he got in return was _wrong._ Harry wasn’t allowed to smirk, it was unnatural, and it was theft.

“I look forward to it.”

There was a cockiness to his tone that wasn’t usually there, and Draco was suspicious. Harry either had a plan or knew something he didn’t. Draco didn't like it.

“Not to interrupt or anything,” Brown said louder than necessary. “But if I’m going to help you, I’ll need to get in touch with some contacts. Do you mind if Declan and Nayden stay here for a few hours? I don’t trust anyone else.”

“We aren’t kids,” Declan objected with folded arms and a wrinkled forehead. “We’ll be fine.”

Harry placed his chin on Draco’s shoulder, and he had half a mind to shove it off. “Of course they can.”

Draco tried not to scrunch his face. He didn’t want to play host to teenagers. What he wanted was to finish what Harry had started and see how many rounds they could go.

“ _Right_ , Draco?”

A jab to his back had him gritting his teeth. Harry was going to get it.

“Right,” Draco admitted reluctantly, hoping they could tell he didn’t want to answer at all. “Of course.”

Things got better after Brown left. At least there weren’t any more knives. But it was awkward as they sat around the kitchen table. Now what?

“Sir,” Nayden fidgeted as he looked at Harry. “Can I ask why your wings are out? I’m not used to seeing partial shifts.”

“I wasn’t born a Veela like you.”

The little gasp he let out had Draco snorting.

“But how? And the wings? I don’t get it.”

“I was an Auror for the Ministry,” Harry started but stopped when everyone else showed disgust. “Yes, I know. I was one of them.”

“Don’t worry,” Draco patted Declan’s hand. “It was just a faze, he’s learned from his mistakes.”

“Shut up,” Harry demanded as Declan and Nayden tried to hide their laughter. “I was on a mission. I had been tracking someone for almost a year. When I finally caught her, she was out to kill. I knew one of us wasn’t going to walk out of there alive.”

There was a faraway look in his eyes, one Draco didn’t like. He intertwined their fingers underneath the table and tried to offer his silent comfort.

“A cutting curse hit my throat and I was left there to die.” There was a pause as Harry’s free hand clenched repeatedly. “A Veela found me, Ambarella. She recognized who I was and did a blood transfusion. Her blood morphed my body and here I am. I’ve never figured out if I’m a hybrid of some kind or just a Veela who never figured out how to be one.”

“That’s awful.”

“It is what it is,” Harry shrugged. “It’s been a long time; I’ve come to terms with it.”

“You can’t shift?” Nayden asked, a frown on his face.

“Oh,” Draco snorted. “He can shift alright. You don’t want to see him angry.”

“Thank you for that,” Harry deadpanned with a glare before looking back at Nayden. “I can shift just fine; I just can’t make my wings leave when I revert back.”

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Nayden rubbed the back of his shoulder blades. “Mine only come out during a shift and it hurts after a while.”

“It did in the beginning. I tore a lot of muscles trying to get them to go away.”

There was an uneasy expression both Declan and Nayden’s face. “Go away?”

“I wasn’t always accepting of my fate.” Harry wouldn’t look at anyone. “I cut them once.”

Nayden’s eyes were wide and filled with horror. “But that’s—”

“I know. It took years for them to grow back. They didn’t use to look this, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“They used to be black, like the majority of Veela, but when they grew back it was filled with colours.”

Draco’s hand itched to run his fingers through the feathers. He could see the fuchsia one again, and he _wanted_ it. He had barely moved an inch, but the nearest wing was already moving out of his reach. It was like Harry _knew_ him.

“They’re pretty,” Nayden smiled. “Mine are white. I’ve seen some have similar colours but not quite like yours.”

“I guess I’ve always been different, even in this.”

When Harry and Nayden started a long boring conversation about shared experiences of being a Veela, Draco tuned out. He loved Harry, but Merlin he was not listening to that all over again.

A glance at Declan showed that he wasn’t listening either if his glazed eyes and drool on his lips was anything to go by.

Draco kicked Declan softly, snorting when he jumped. He put a hand to his lips when it looked like Declan was going to say something.

‘What.’ It was mouthed with impatience. Draco tilted his head toward Harry before lifting his nose toward Nayden.

Declan’s hands gestured widely as he eyed Draco with frustration.

With a glare, Draco repeated the gestures—sighing when nothing came of it.

‘You,’ Draco mouthed with a pointed finger emphasizing it before pointing at Harry and Nayden. He tried to mime talking but it looked weird.

Declan pointed at himself, then his mouth and then toward Harry and Nayden.

 _Finally_.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Declan cleared his throat. “But I was wondering if you could tell me some stories about my mum while she was in Hogwarts?”

When Harry let out a fond laugh and gave his full attention, Draco inched just enough to be able to see the fuchsia feather.

“During my sixth year, your mum dated my best friend.”

“Really?” Declan actually looked interested and Draco was annoyed that the kid was so easily distracted.

He raised his hands as if he was stretching, even faked a yawn, but it wasn’t until Harry started doing a horrible impression of Brown repeating ‘Won won’ that he made his move—pulling the feather harder than necessary.

“Ah-ha!” Draco said at the same time Harry growled.

“How many times do I have to tell you that—”

“Uh-huh,” Draco yelled over his shoulder as he made a beeline for the bedroom, the feather cradled to his chest.

“No.”

Once again, he was encased in Harry’s arms. “Why do you do this?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was because I love you?” Draco tilted his head back enough to peer up into Harry’s eyes.

“Not even remotely,” Harry laughed. “I think you get a kick out of my pain.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the gist of it. “I like them.”

“So do I, where they belong. Not plucked out.”

“They're my memories,” Draco whispered, looking straight ahead, grateful that his back was to Harry’s chest. “Each feather is a memory; one I never want to forget in case—” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry promised, it was barely a whisper, far too quiet. “I’ll be here annoying you for as long as possible.”

As confident that he was in their mating, it wasn’t guaranteed that Harry would live as long as him.

“You better.”

Living forever meant nothing if the existence was in solitude. Life was meant to be shared and Harry was the only one he wanted to share it with.

“Do you think we’ll be that gross at their age?”

The whisper carried and it brought a smile to his face. Past him never would have understood his current life. Who he had once been was in for a whirlwind as the discovery of self-love blended into loving others.

“Maybe if we’re lucky.”

Lucky. Yeah, Draco was lucky alright. Lucky to have lived at all, lucky to have suffered but also to have learned from it. Lucky to have found his path alone and then later walking the same path hand in hand with Harry.

Luck didn’t discriminate, and his mistakes played no part in the process. Life granted him more luck then he felt was deserved but turning it down had never crossed his mind. Luck wasn’t just Harry; luck was himself too.

And he was going to hold onto both for as long as he could.

* * *

_Years._ So many years wasted wanting something so stupid, so trivial, so bland, so useless.

“Let me get this straight,” Draco drawled as he sneered down at two Vampires inside the court. “You stole her supply of bottled Magic because she cheated on you, but _you’re_ the one wanting compensation?”

“It’s affected my health.”

The woman had such a look of disgust on her face, and for a brief moment, he wondered if either of them deserved a single Galleon.

“Cheating is not a crime. It’s repugnant, deplorable, wretched and dismal, but it’s not against the Animatio Court’s laws.”

The sour look he got in return had him arching a brow. What, was she going to argue?

“Theft, however,” Draco glared at the man who was now shifting on his feet. “ _Is_ a crime and since you oh so graciously admitted to doing it, you can not only pay restitution for what was stolen, but you will also be fined double the court fees.”

“Double! Wait why—”

“For making me have to deal with this stupidity,” Draco snarled. “Both of you get out of my sight.”

The silence that followed their exit was the best silence of his life. Why had he ever wanted to be on the council?

“Rough first day?”

Draco jerked at the sound of his replacement’s voice, Mina. That meant she got to handle the next case. Mina was his second favourite after Harry. She was weird, so very weird but she was nice.

“They’re all idiots,” he bemoaned. “How do you put up with it?”

Mina ran her fingers through her hair—as best as she could with a buzz-cut—as she regarded him in amusement.

“You get used to it.”

He didn’t want to get used to it. He wanted to have decent cases, interesting ones. Something noteworthy.

“And hey,” she continued with a calculating look that didn’t match her personality. “It’s practice for the hearing.”

“So I hear.” He knew she wanted a reaction, they all did, but he wasn’t stupid, and he certainly wasn’t as open as Lorian had been.

“Do you know how you’ll vote?”

“Do you?” He countered, smirking when she huffed. “I like to wait until all evidence is shown before making a decision.”

“But you must have an inkling?”

Draco looked at the clock, there were only a few minutes before the next person was to arrive.

“Tell me, does free will come with stipulations?”

Mina frowned and she squinted her eyes at him. “I think when the free will of one contests the will of another, there have to be regulations in place otherwise there’s only chaos and no order.”

“And if the ones making the regulations are doing so with only their free will in mind? What then? What is to come of free will if it’s only greed masquerading as something for the people instead of the select few that it truly is?”

“'Tis treason to think such things.”

The threat didn’t scare him. Nothing of concrete had been said and it could have been interpreted in many different ways. 

“How old are you?” Draco asked, ignoring her objection entirely.

“Too many centuries to count.”

“Is the world different now then it was back then?”

Mina arched her brows and looked at him funny. “Of course. Oceans that once were thriving are now rivers that barely move. Mountains have been reduced to hills. Things decay, stuff will grow, new life begins, and death is as present as always.”

“If the world, society and people are always changing, why do the laws remain the same?” Draco asked sadly. “New information, new objections, and new research happen every day. Why not use it? Why maintain the status quo of ancient ideas when those who made them aren’t around to see the outcome?”

“You’re a wise one,” Mina said, and he wasn’t sure, but it sounded like she was fond. “An old soul, one that is hard to find among current generations.”

“Sometimes stupidity and wisdom go hand in hand.”

“And you? You think your stance is stupid?”

Draco shrugged. “When the minority objects the majority, the odds are never in their favour. The status quo provides stability while also maintaining grief. Changing that opens things to the unknown.”

“The unknown worries you.”

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.

“Then why object at all? If uncertainty wavers your confidence, why bother?”

“Sometimes, uncertainty precedes a bravery that fuels the strength to keep fighting.”

Mina looked around the room before lowering her voice. “The Animatio Court does not fight with the same stakes, nor with bravery.”

“Which is why it will decay along with the rest of the things society changes as time passes.”

Mina let out a rough exhale as she shook her head. “That’s a bold statement, one I’ve yet to see any depth to.” 

“The depth resides in faith. I put my faith into the hands of someone who can wield it as a weapon.”

“You trust them that much?”

“More than I can trust myself,” Draco answered honestly.

The door swung open as a prisoner in chains was placed in the centre of the court. Mina was looking, but her eyes were unseeing, and he wondered what thoughts were racing up there.

“The times are changing,” Mina whispered, as her hands mindlessly pulled open the prisoner’s folder. “I think I will too. Align myself with those who foolishly place their faith in the unknown.”

There weren’t any words worth saying, so he said nothing. Only hoped she could feel his gratitude. Mina had survived many wars, many new civilizations and her support could change everything.

“Good luck with your case.”

This time when she smiled at him, he could clearly see the fondness in not only her eyes but her face too.

_“Ana ou vinth ʃaʃen.”_

The hissed words stilled him as he was half-way out of his seat. It shouldn’t have surprised him that someone so old would know Parseltongue, but it did.

What else did Mina know? What else was she hiding?

———————

Draco waited impatiently for Harry to get home. The clock seemed to be frozen because it could _not_ have only been a minute since he last looked. The one day he was early, and no one was home.

By the time the front door opened, Draco had paced across the whole flat mindlessly.

“What are you doing?”

He startled a bit before pulling Harry into his arms. “Waiting for you.”

“Well I’m home,” Harry said, brows furrowing. “You seem to have missed me.”

“Always,” Draco said, lips pressed against his cheek. “But I actually have a question.”

He was shoved to the side. “Oh, I see how it is.”

“No, I did miss you,” Draco laughed, following Harry into the bedroom. “But it revolves around Parseltongue.”

Harry turned around curiously, robe half-way off his body. “What about it?”

“What does, ‘ _Ana ou vinth ʃaʃen’_ mean?”

When Harry shuddered, Draco wondered if Mina had been lying and her intentions weren’t good.

“Is that how you feel when I speak Parseltongue?”

_Oh._

“You like it?” Draco pulled on Harry’s robe until he was close enough to tumble them on the bed. “Teach me Parseltongue and we can do that more often.”

The heavy-lidded gaze made him want to forget everything else and fuck Harry.

“One in.”

“Huh?” Draco’s mind was still on wanting to get him naked. “One in what?”

“That’s what it means.”

Draco frowned, and he felt Harry smoothing out his wrinkled forehead. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s hard to explain,” Harry hummed. “It’s like a comradery in a way. Saying two people are one in and of the same.”

“Oh.” That was not what he had expected. “Mina told me that.”

“Mina the Vampire? The one who stares at people like she can see their souls?”

“That’s the one.”

Harry shuddered again only this time it wasn’t in pleasure. “She creeps me out.”

“I think she reminds me a lot of Lovegood actually.”

“Huh,” Harry tilted his head to the side. “That is one of the more insightful things you’ve ever said.”

“That sounds like a compliment rolled into an insult at the same time.”

“Always knew you were smart,” Harry teased, and Draco shoved him off.

“I think she’ll vote with us,” Draco said as he rolled on his side. “We had an almost hypothetical conversation today, and the Parseltongue was her parting words to me.”

There was silence for a long time as Draco watched Harry who was lying on his back watching the ceiling.

“She’d be a strong supporter,” Harry finally said. “I’d prefer another Vampire on our side.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Not with Hemlock as the chairman. “The rest of them are so far up Hemlock’s arse.”

“I was worried about that.”

“We need twelve votes.” It seemed like a long shot, even in the midst of their plans. “Twelve votes and the hearing can actually lead to an appeal.”

“This is our one shot,” Harry looked at Draco. “If we don’t get the votes, her request for an appeal is denied and all of this stops there.”

No pressure huh.

“Twelve out of twenty.” More than half. “We’ve got two Vampire votes, one Veela—”

“No, two Veela.”

“Since when?” Draco was offended Harry had sat on that kind of information.

“As of today. I don’t think Ambarella will side with me, but Charlotte is sensitive to the cause.”

Draco sat up; expression dubious. “Are we talking about the same Charlotte who has never so much as been late to a meeting let alone step a toe out of line? The same Charlotte who is a do-gooder with a stronger sense of morality than even you.”

He had to roll away from a playful smack, but he hadn’t lied. Charlotte was the kind of person who would be offended if work was cancelled. She could give Granger a run for her money.

“I know something you don’t.”

It was a taunt, and Draco wanted to fall into it, but his pride wouldn’t let him. “How do you know I don’t already know it?”

“Hmm,” Harry placed a hand under his chin. “I don’t, but I’m fairly confident.”

“How confident?”

“What is it you want?” Ah, he loved when Harry looked at him in suspicion. Nostalgic, always brought back memories from their school years.

“If I already know it, I get the vermillion feather I saw this morning.”

“Draco,” Harry groaned, throwing a pillow at him. “I can’t wait for your obsession to end. You can’t possibly still be missing colours.”

He wasn’t going to explain _again_ that the shades were different. He had colours that were similar, sure, but they weren’t the same. Draco wanted all of them.

“That’s my price.”

“And if you don’t know it?” Harry asked, a sly grin on his face that never worked in Draco’s favour. “What do I get out of it?”

“You can take a feather back.”

 _“Draco_.” The grin faded and was replaced with something sad, which was not his intention.

“It’s okay,” he promised. “Like you said, I have the same colour.”

He could tell Harry wanted to argue but he wasn’t in the mood. All he wanted was to take a nap, eat and sleep at least a decade.

“Charlotte and Lane have a thing for each other.”

 _“What?”_ Draco gasped. The Werewolf chairman had a thing for Miss prim and proper? “How do you know?”

“Well I don’t know how he feels, but I know how she does. It was heavily suggested by her.”

Probably similar to his conversation with Mina.

“That makes two Vampires, two Veela, one Goblin—”

“Nope, two Goblin’s, possibly three.”

“Explain.” Draco was sick of not being in the loop. Weren’t mates supposed to share secrets with each other? Not that he had ever followed that, but someone as morally righteous as Harry should have.

“Griphook’s father is very influential. A little nudging and he was able to convince another Goblin. The third one is on the fence but Griphook is confident it will work.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then we sure as hell have to hope we can find some to cover the votes.”

The prospect of winning seemed way more impossible than it had last week. He wasn’t even privy to the full plan—which irked him—and wasn’t sure what else Harry had up his sleeve.

“What about the Werewolves? Has Brown found anything?”

“Not yet. She said to give her a couple more days.”

“Harry, we only have a couple more days. Hemlock wants to get the hearing over with and is pushing for a date this week.”

“I’ll get the Goblins to stall. They don’t like Vampire’s anyway.”

“I don’t know why, we’re clearly the superior Magical Creature.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That kind of talk is exactly why they don’t like Vampires. Your cockiness offends them.”

“The weak are easily influenced.”

“Please say that in court. I want to see the Goblin’s reactions and then the fear on your face when they attack.”

“Some mate you are,” Draco shoved Harry.

Draco plopped on his back and groaned. “Being on the council sucks.”

The laugh at his expense was not appreciated and if he had the energy, he’d have sent a bolt of Magic in retaliation.

“I’ve been telling you that for years, and you never believed me.”

When he didn’t reply, Harry propped his chin on Draco’s chest. “Was it that bad?”

“Exhausting. I’m used to being alone. Even before becoming the court’s Potion Master, I was their killer, and was alone then too.”

“I wish you wouldn’t use that title.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Would assassin make you feel better? It’s the same thing.”

“Yes, actually it would.”

He didn’t bother coming up with a retort. It wasn’t worth it, not when Harry was already worked up.

“I’m going to take a nap,” Draco yawned. “Do you want to take one with me?”

“Someone has to make dinner.”

“Oh, good. You can do that while I take a nap.”

The jab to his chest wasn’t enough to keep his eyes from closing. Shuffling and complaints were all he could hear before he was left in silence. Peace at last.

He was almost asleep when a thought had him jolting a little. “Put some of your blood on the top of my plate, will you?” Draco yelled.

“That’s revolting!”

“Thank you!” Draco ignored Harry, knowing he’d do it anyway. Because he was a sap.

When he laid his head back down, Draco felt something on the pillow. He reached blindly before it fell out of his hands with shaky fingers.

A vermillion feather.

Fuck, Draco loved him.

With the feather clutched to his fest, Draco closed his eyes and let sleep take him and hoped his dreams were filled with visions of Harry.

Because that was a true dream.

* * *

A day off. What a novel concept. No work, nothing that needed to be done, no plans to plot. Nothing but the prospect of fucking Harry all day.

“What’s gotten into you?” Harry panted as Draco trailed open-mouthed kisses along his neck.

“I’ve missed you.” There hadn’t been time for much as of late and he _needed_ Harry.

“I’m right here,” Harry cupped his cheeks before kissing him. “Always right with you.”

“Good, then you can be inside me too.”

“I don’t know why you think you’re funny.”

Draco scoffed as he unbuttoned Harry’s robes. “Please, I’m hilarious, your pride just won’t admit it.”

Before Harry could retort, a knock on their door had them groaning.

“Go away!”

“Who is it?” Harry nudged Draco off of him, and he could see the chance of dick disappearing right before his eyes. Whoever was at the door better be dying, and if not, then they would be soon.

“It’s me.”

At the sound of Brown’s voice, Draco growled. “Go away!”

“Come in!”

Fucking Harry. Sometimes, he wondered why he had ever mated someone so nice.

“We’ll continue this later,” Harry whispered before pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Oh yeah. That’s why.

When Draco opened the door, he sidestepped another knife. “You better make this quick. I intend on fucking Harry in the next half-hour whether you are here or not.”

“And risk the chance of seeing you naked?” Brown wrinkled her nose. “No thanks. I’ll be gone by then.”

Finally some good news.

“What was so important that you had to ruin my day by seeing you?”

Brown looked pleased and he really wanted to throw the knife right back at her.

“I’ve come with answers.”

When Harry gestured for everyone to sit at the table, Draco sighed loudly and far too dramatically.

“I looked into all five of the Werewolf council members and,” she let out a whistle. “They are all fucked up.”

“I’m not surprised.” Anyone on the council was fucked up, himself included but that excluded Harry.

“If you really wanted to go with blackmail, you’d be able to get four of them.”

Harry sat up straighter and Draco actually felt like her interruption might have been worth it.

“Who’s the last one you couldn’t get dirt on?” Harry asked as he pulled out a spare bit of parchment and started to take notes. “Draco’s good at getting people to talk.”

The pride in Harry’s voice made him feel warm, warm enough that he wasn’t even bothered by Brown’s muttered, ‘I bet’.

“Warren Killian.”

 _Oh,_ first Lorian and now Killian? The world was looking up for him.

“No,” Harry pointed at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m not going to kill him,” Draco put his hands up. “I’m just going to have a friendly chat, that’s all.”

“Friendly my arse. The last time you had a ‘chat’ you sent him to St. Mungo’s where he was unconscious for _weeks_.”

“I feel like you are looking over the fact that I sent him to where he could get help. The Healers fixed him up just fine.” 

“What am I missing?” Brown looked between them.

“Killian said if you ever contacted him again, he’d file a restraining order with the Ministry.”

Draco ran his tongue along the edges of his fangs. They had elongated on their own in his excitement. Killian deserved _so_ much pain.

“It’s not my fault he’s a little bitch.”

Brown eyed Draco curiously, she almost seemed impressed. “What did you do to him?”

“That would be a long list of things that we don’t time for,” Harry interrupted. “Short answer is Killian was a rival in Draco’s past… line of work.”

“He took one of my targets,” he narrowed his eyes. Killian was a right piece of work that had lost Draco a month’s worth of pay in Hemlock’s wrath when he showed up empty-handed.

“And in retaliation, you killed his boss.”

“Take out his source of income and there’s no one left to hire him,” Brown nodded, and this time she was _definitely_ impressed.

 _Exactly_. “Thank you.”

“How did the council take it?”

“They never knew,” Draco smirked. “There wasn’t a body for them to find. The council still has him marked as missing. Plus Killian wasn’t even a member at that point.”

Brown looked at him for a long time, only he wasn’t sure what she was looking for.

“Maybe we can start over after all.” A hand was extended, and he leaned forward, staring at it.

“You still going to throw knives at me?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Draco reached out to shake her hand. Brown would make a decent ally.

“You’re not going to listen to me, are you?” Harry asked, and Draco held his hand.

“If we get all five of the members, then that’s our twelve votes. You know I can do this.”

“Of course you can,” Harry shook his head. “Too well, that’s the problem.”

“I won’t harm him.” When he was on the receiving end of two sets of arched brows, he added, “Much.” 

Reluctance was all over Harry’s face, and part of him felt insulted. He meant it; Killian would remain alive.

“Okay,” Harry squeezed his hand. “Don’t get yourself hurt.”

 _Now_ he was insulted. “When have I ever?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“It was one time.”

“Try five.”

The difference between one and five honestly wasn’t that much.

Draco cleared his throat as he turned back toward Brown. “And the others? What did you find on them?”

Brown tossed several folders on the table. “1. Lane. Chairman of the Werewolf council. He’s been operating an illegal fighting ring.”

“How illegal?”

“Yeah, are we talking Murder illegal or apparating without a license illegal?” Draco added.

“The Ministry wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Then why should we?”

“It’s Animatio illegal.”

Draco sucked in a sharp breath. “Who is fighting in the ring?”

“Underage Werewolves fighting for a position in his pack.”

When a pulse of Magic cracked the table, Draco already knew who was responsible. He wanted to pull Harry into a hug but not when the Magic was as unstable as it was.

“That would certainly get us his vote.” But at what cost? There was no way in hell he was going to let Lane continue running the ring. They’d have to double-cross him.

“2. Emery. Councilmember. She’s been working with the Ministry on a way to implement a tagging system. Where we’d all be branded and ‘owned’ by the government.”

“Why?” Draco growled. “What could she possibly get out of that?”

“Money.”

Throwing their entire community away for money. Did she think the Ministry would let her go? That she’d be able to escape being tagged? Another one to be double-crossed.

“3. Damien. Councilmember. He’s been siphoning money from the Court’s resource fund and transferring it into Gringotts under a false charity.”

Wow. Faking a charity to steal money. That was a new low.

“No way the Goblins aren’t aware of it,” Harry argued. “They know every transaction that goes through.”

“Oh, they know alright,” Brown said. “It’s a joint effort.”

Was the entire council corrupt? They needed a clean-sweep, to start over.

“4. Lilith. She’s been spying on the Animatio Court for the Incubi delegates.”

Draco slumped back in his chair, unsure what to think let alone say. The Incubi and Succubae society refused safety in numbers and dispersed into communities across the world centuries ago.

“I thought the rumours of them relocating in London were just that, rumours.”

“Not anymore.”

When he had been for hire, several Incubi were on the list. He knew, even back then that they’d recoup. Only, he didn’t know what they wanted or what their goal was. Draco didn’t have the time or the energy to worry about future problems. That would have to be shelved for another day.

“You handle Killian, and Lavender and I will persuade the rest of them.”

Persuade. It was almost cute how little Harry wanted to get his hands dirty.

“Blackmail, love. Say it with me.”

“Piss off.”

When Brown stood up to leave, Harry walked her to the door. “You can keep the folders; I made my own copies.”

Draco looked down at open folders to see the council members’ faces staring up at him. Some winking, others glaring. He hated all of them. Every single corrupt member.

“Is it wrong of me to be grateful for their mistakes?”

“Hmm?” Draco peered up at Harry.

“If they were decent people, we’d be five votes short. Is it wrong of me to be glad that we have this over them?”

“You and I view morality in different ways.”

The sad smile he got in return tugged at his dead heartstrings. He pulled Harry into a hug, his fingers running through soft feathers.

“I’ll shoulder your guilt.” He’d take all of it if he could.

“I know you would,” Harry mumbled into Draco’s hair. “But I can’t ask you to do that, and I won’t.”

Well, what did that leave then?

“Do you want to have sad depressing sex, or do you want me to hold you all night?”

Harry chuckled, but it was a touch wet. “Sex with you could never be sad or depressing. But I’ll take the latter.”

It had taken them a long time to get where they were at—the ability to lean on each other, the trust of comfort and the love to heal old wounds.

“Come on,” Draco pulled him into the bedroom. “You can use me as your pillow, and I promise I won’t even complain when you get gross and sweaty.”

“Must be my birthday.”

The only reason he let that sass go unchecked was because Harry looked an insult away from having a breakdown.

As Draco held Harry and murmured false reassurances he wondered again if all of it was worth it. There wasn’t much good in him, or if there had ever been any to begin with. But Harry had so much good that it intimidated him.

While Harry was the bravest person Draco had ever met, his heart wasn’t meant for this kind of life. Shady deals, betrayal, assassinations, and discrimination would never sit well with him. It must be hard to come to grips with.

None of it had ever bothered Draco. It was a life he adapted to in order to survive. It was a life that Harry came into blind and still trusting that others held the same amount of virtue as him.

Draco didn’t care if he spent the rest of his life among the court, but he needed to get Harry out of it. Wherever Harry went, that was Draco’s home. He’d give up the whole world for him. And if that meant leaving his peers and those who understood them, then so be it.

Regardless of the outcome of the hearing, Draco was going to give Harry the life that he deserved.

It’s all he could do.

* * *

It had been years since he had to sleuth. Draco had forgotten how boring it was. Waiting for Killian to arrive home was tedious. Fantasizing about Harry worked for an hour, but then he grew sleepy.

When the front door _finally_ turned, Draco un-crouched from his position on the bannister and waited to hear the click of it shutting before he threw a succession of knives, all of them hitting exactly where he wanted, keeping Killian pinned to the door.

A scream of pain was music to his ears after so many hours of hearing nothing but a broken clock ticking every other minute.

“Oops,” Draco tsked as he got closer. “Looks like one of them was a little too high.” He poked the knife sticking out of Killian’s palm.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Why so tense?” Draco pulled out another knife and watched Killian focus on it. “We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

_“Fuck you.”_

The knife trailed down his cheek and Draco took pleasure in Killian’s audible gulp. “Now, now, don’t be like that. Where's your manners?”

When Killian tried to spit on him, Draco slammed a hand against the knife embedded into his palm.

“Now,” Draco yelled over the sound of anguish. “I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Oh, I think you do,” Draco whispered as he trailed the blade of the knife along Killian’s collarbone. “You see, I wonder how Hemlock would react if I told him you were the one to kill his niece.”

Killian froze and the sheer panic on his face was almost better than sex—definitely better than masturbation.

“You didn’t think I killed your boss and _didn’t_ look through his records, did you?”

The more Killian panicked, the further his enjoyment increased. Was that sadism? Probably.

“I know about every murder you were hired for. Every last one.”

“What do you want?”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Draco pat his cheek once, narrowing his eyes when Killian tried to bite him.

“Here’s what you’re going to,” he began with another poke of the knife. “You’re going to vote yes in the hearing, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Why do you care how I vote?”

Draco was being sized up, but it was expected. Killian was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

“You aren’t privy to that knowledge.”

“It’s because you’re fucking Potter, isn’t it?”

Years of control was the only reason he was able to remain emotionless.

“You thought no one would notice the way you look at him? A Vampire and a Veela? It’s disgusting.”

Draco didn’t interact with Harry in public often. Once every few months, that was it. No way Killian detected anything then.

“You’re not the only one who remembers their old job,” Killian sneered. “I know how to track people too.”

“Why? Why do you care what I do?”

When Killian looked away, Draco felt a little lost. They had spent years hating each other, years fighting, years in attempted murders, years vying for the same position. Killian got what he wanted—the council—so why would he focus on him?

It wasn’t as if Draco had been a threat at that point. Killian’s position on the council ensured that they never interacted, and it wasn’t as if the council was dying to offer him a seat. What other reason would Killian feel the need to spy on him?

It couldn’t be—

“You don’t care that I’m fucking a Veela, you care that I’m not fucking _you_.”

Killian wouldn’t meet his eyes and Draco _knew_ he was right. The thought alone disgusted him. “I don’t know what you thought our interactions in the past were, but I promise you, I despise everything about you.”

Physical pain was something Killian was familiar with—that Draco knew—but emotional pain? That had to be a new concept.

The pain in Killian’s eyes was different, and Draco wondered how heartless it was to use his feelings against him.

It was a good thing he didn’t have a heart anymore.

“I don’t care what you thought. I don’t care what you deluded yourself into thinking, but get out of your head, because clearly your imagination isn’t a good place.”

“Shove off.”

It was a weak attempt at anger, and Draco pitied him.

“Vote yes in the hearing or face Hemlock’s revenge. The choice is yours.”

“If I do what you want, I don’t want to ever see you again.”

“Please, by all means,” Draco gestured. “That would make my day.”

“I’ll do it.”

It was cute that Killian thought he ever had a choice to begin with. “Good call.”

When Draco opened the door, he paused to admire his handiwork. The execution had been good in the end, but the beginning had been sloppy. He needed more practice.

“I imagine you can get yourself down, can’t you?”

“Wait!”

He had only stepped a foot outside when Killian began talking. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anything.

“How did you get in with my wards still intact?”

Draco smirk was all fangs. Perhaps he still had the touch after all.

“That’s why you’ll always be second-rate to me. You never could keep up.”

The sound of yelling as he slammed the door shut was the best parting he could have hoped for. It was a shame he had promised to leave Killian alive.

At least Harry would be happy.

That’s all that really mattered in the end.

* * *

Laughter surrounded Draco and he soaked it in. He was used to Harry’s laugh but welcomed everyone else’s too.

Brown had invited them over for dinner. A tent had been pitched in their tiny backyard, but it was nice. He knew it was more for her benefit than theirs, but still.

There were only a few more days until the hearing and with each new day, Brown grew restless and antsy. Which then made Declan and Nayden restless too.

Draco watched them all play Exploding Snap as he relaxed on a makeshift love seat. The joy, laughter and smiles were moments that were hard to find. He had never had those until Harry, and it was almost freeing being able to experience it with others too.

It was like having a friend.

Friends were his past, something he only ever had while alive. Nothing had ever brought him enjoyment after being turned. At least until he learned to adapt, learned to like himself even if he couldn’t ever increase it to love.

Loving Harry was easy though, it was the easiest choice he had ever made, and he wanted to preserve that love for forever. The outcome of the hearing didn’t worry him anymore, it didn’t leave him anxious as it did Harry.

Because his decision had already been made. The one to walk away. He just hoped Harry would understand.

Draco smiled as Harry walked toward him, hips swaying, and wings spread out. So beautiful.

“Pick a colour, any colour.”

Yellow had caught Draco’s eye when Harry had woken up. A light hue that he hadn’t seen on the wings he loved so much.

“Yellow.”

Harry reached behind him and winced before handing Draco a yellow feather. “Whatever you’re brooding about over here, just remember that I love you.”

Draco looked down at the feather in his hands and marvelled at the different meanings it held. It wasn’t just a gift or an embodiment of his feelings. No. The feather was a piece of Harry, it was a piece of what represented the person who had come to mean so much to him.

He had lied when he said the collection was his memories in case he had to walk the Earth one day without Harry by his side. They _were_ memories, but they served as a memento of what made waking up each day so precious. The collection was there whenever he needed the reminder that he loved just as much as the love was returned in kind.

The feathers were his strength, his prized possession. They represented Harry, but they also represented himself too.

And he was going to keep it that way at any cost, consequences be damned. 

“I love you too.”

That was his reason for everything.

Loving Harry.

* * *

As the courtroom filled with more people than it had seen in a decade, Draco watched the plaintiff stand tall and poised. Leandra. That’s what her folder said. He had gone the whole plan without knowing the brave woman who challenged the court for love.

Despite her demeanour, Leandra was frightened, he could tell. Her hands shook every few minutes and her eyes tried not to look at the crowd. A few people looked at her with kindness, while others openly jeered. It was clear the room was divided.

As his eyes roamed the court, he shook his head when he caught sight of Declan and Nayden. Brown was going to kill them.

When the door shut and no one else came through, he figured it was as full as it was going to get. Draco cleared his throat.

“Let’s begin.”

“You are _not_ in charge,” Hemlock hissed, tone as angry as his facial expression. “Let’s begin.”

Oh, Merlin. Draco rolled his eyes and truly regretted all the time spent wishing to be on the council.

“Leandra Prudence, you challenged the court for the right to marry someone outside of your delegation. Despite the by-the-book outcome, you are seeking to appeal the decision. This hearing will decide if the court thinks it has any merit. Should you get the majority vote, then and only then, will you be able to appeal the original decision. Should that happen, a new court date will be decided, and you can make your case.”

Leandra took a deep breath as she kept a respectable gaze on Hemlock.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“If you do not get the majority vote then this ends here, and you will not be allowed to petition the court on this subject matter again. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

Hemlock gestured to the other council members before he folded his hands and just observed.

Ambarella stood up, signalling her right to the floor. “Being with a Vampire as a Werewolf is not wrong.”

A few people in the crowd booed but when Draco turned to glare, they shut up. Maybe his reputation was still going strong.

“The court doesn’t recommend that choice. After being with someone, and the chance at mating is off the table, our bodies crave what they can’t have. To deny yourself what your body so clearly wants only harms the Psyche later on in life.” 

“With all due respect,” Leandra interrupted and a few people in the crowd oohed. “If given the chance to mate with who we want regardless of delegation, it would still give the body what it wants.”

“At the risk of consequences,” Mina said, ignoring Ambarella’s glare. “Are you not concerned with the risks of mating what you don’t understand?”

“The risks are worth it,” whispered Leandra as her fingers fidgeted. “I can’t bite her because her venom would heal too quickly before anything could take effect. But I can take the mating mark, it will be me who takes the risks. Shouldn’t that be my own decision and not one governed by the court?”

“You imply that there is something amiss within the court,” Hemlock arched his brows. “That’s a bold statement.”

“Don’t put words in her mouth,” Draco challenged. “She is merely saying what she does with her own body should not be something the court should have a say on.”

There was a small smile from Leandra, and he wished he could return it.

“The statement does, however, interfere with the court’s laws,” Ragnuk said, and several Goblins nodded with him. “Why change what has been written since the founding of our community?”

“But should we uphold an insufficient law solely based on it being a law?”

“Insufficient?” Killian asked Harry with an incredulous shake of his head. “The law has been sound for generations. What is the reasoning for the implication that it is no longer adequate?”

“We wouldn’t be here if it was adequate,” Harry argued. “Laws can be amended, and we’ve done so in the past.”

“We’re here not because it’s inadequate, but because someone wants to change what shouldn’t be changed.”

“Says you,” Draco said to Hemlock, sneering when all he got was a scoff in reply. “If a law is no longer working, then change the law.”

Ambarella looked at Draco closely, and it was unnerving. How did Harry stand it?

“No longer working for who?” She asked, eyes still on him.

“Those who want to love whoever they please,” Leandra said, and Draco had almost forgotten about her. It was unusual for the council to be so vocal when the plaintiff was the one had to make their case.

“The Animatio Court is not preventing that,” Lane pointed to her. “You are free to love them.”

“But not mate them,” Leandra shook her head. “Why do I have to mate inside my delegation? Why does the court get to dictate that? You say I can love who I want but deny me the same rights as others. How is that just?”

“Tis how it’s always been,” Mina smiled sadly. “Even before the Animatio Court was created.”

“The court does not lose or gain anything by allowing inter-species mating. The risks do not fall on anyone other than the individuals involved. The court does not interfere with delegated matings.”

“Delegated matings are natural.”

Leandra glared at Hemlock. “Are you insinuating that I’m unnatural for how I feel and who I love?”

“If that love goes against the court, then yes.”

“But it doesn’t have to,” Harry said, his emotions bleeding through and it sounded like a plea. “If we can challenge any law and any ruling, what makes this one so different? Why is this the one that can’t be reconsidered?”

No one said anything and that was the true question, wasn’t it?

“The Animatio Court was founded because we were all forsaken,” Draco began, and he hated that word, hated that all he could remember was pain at the hands of Lorian. “Wizard society shunned who we are, they deemed us unfit and beneath them. That was long before time began to be tracked. They have not changed their stance; they still consider us beneath them, and our rights are denied.

“We were separate, never included and it was us against them. We were segregated from their society and ostracized for who we are. And yet, we do the same to our own kind now by reinforcing that we still don’t belong, that there must be a divide between us all. Even our council is divided. We do not sit up here as peers, we sit by our own kind in tables that never touch. We pretend we are a united front when in reality we can’t stand each other. If we do not change the laws that no longer work for us, then all we will become is the embodiment of the very thing we sought to get away from. Discrimination.”

Someone in the crowd let out a loud whoop that broke up the stilted silence that followed his speech, for that was exactly what it was. A speech. One he wished to never give again.

When he glanced at Harry all he could see was pride and love. Speaking his thoughts on something that had been buried for so long had been freeing. He had loved Harry in secret for so long, and it was bursting to come out.

“There is pride in being a Veela,” said Harry as he looked around the room. “There is pride in being a Werewolf. There is pride in being a Goblin and there is pride in being a Vampire. None of us are superior to another and the only thing a law such as this does is reinforces the belief that we are not the same. We are one, we are each other, and we are _Ana ou vinth ʃaʃen._ ”

Mina clapped once as she grinned at Harry and then Draco. He wasn’t sure if she had suspected who he had set his faith in, but it was obvious now.

“I think there are a lot of things that need to change in the Animatio Court, but let’s start with this. Let’s begin here.” There was a pause as Harry turned to each chairman from the different councils. “Now we vote.”

The nerves that Draco hadn’t felt before the hearing materialized. His stomach was in knots and he wasn’t sure if those who had said they’d vote yes would truly do it.

“With the hearing now coming to a close, each council will take a moment to reflect amongst themselves before the final verdict is to be announced.”

As the rest of the councils began to huddle together, Draco didn’t bother. He didn’t give a fuck what the rest of the Vampire council thought and if he had to listen to Hemlock speak more than necessary, he’d end up arrested for murder.

“You did well.”

Draco smiled at Mina, who had not gone into the huddle either. “I think we all did.”

Mina leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I wish the founders had someone like you and your mate when the laws were created. Our world would be better off because of it.”

His stomach jolted at the easy acceptance. No one knew they were mated, no one. Hearing it said out loud was surreal and he wanted to hear it over and over again.

“I’m honoured to have come across you.”

“I think you have too much faith in me,” Draco said with a small smile. “There are better people to follow.”

Like Harry. Someone who fought for what was right no matter the cost. Someone so kind, brave and generous. That was someone to follow, that was someone to be honoured to have met.

“Your faith is put wisely,” Mina said before placing a hand on top of his. “And so is mine. I have faith in you. Do not doubt that.”

He didn’t know what to say. No one outside of Harry had ever taken a second look and seen what others never did before. Draco didn’t know what Mina saw inside him enough to have faith, but he wasn’t going to fight it.

Hemlock cleared his throat repeatedly and obnoxiously. A hush fell over the court as everyone took their seat.

“Those in favour of the plaintiff from the Goblin council, what say you?”

Three. Three Goblins stood up, including Ragnuk.

Leandra’s hands were clutched to her chest and they were shaking so roughly that Draco wondered if she was okay.

“Those in favour of the plaintiff from the Werewolf council, what say you?”

Draco held his breath, praying that the blackmail had been enough. Hoping that none of them would test it.

The breath left him in a whoosh when all five of them stood up. Fuck, it was really happening.

“Those in favour of the plaintiff from the Vampire council, what say you?”

Mina and Draco stood up, but they were the only ones to do so. Unsurprising but it was thoroughly disappointing.

“Those in favour of the plaintiff from the Veela council, what say you?”

Two, they only needed two people to vote yes. Harry was a given. Just one more. He had faith when Harry had said the other Veela vote was secure, but he couldn’t help but worry.

When Harry, Charlotte and Ambarella stood up, Draco let out a shaky laugh.

Thirteen votes.

Draco glanced at Leandra to see her silently sobbing. She won. The hearing had won.

“The plaintiff has the majority,” Hemlock said through gritted teeth. “Leandra Prudence, you have the court’s approval to continue with an appeal. You will be contacted when a date has been set. The Animatio Court is dismissed.”

More than half the room broke out in cheers and it was more than he expected. Draco watched families hug each other. Watched those he could have sworn would have been against changing anything embrace the decision. He grinned when he caught sight of Declan and Nayden jumping up and down while trying to hug each other at the same time. 

What surprised him the most was when Leandra was swept up into a passionate embrace from Valentine. Who knew she had a heart at all? Well, now part of him felt bad for taking her seat and letting the council think she killed Lorian.

Not enough to change anything, but it was something.

Watching Leandra and Valentine made him ache for Harry and he didn’t want to just follow suit, he wanted to outdo them.

It was customary for council members to wait until the court was empty before being allowed to leave. So when Draco stood up, several people took notice—including the people trying to exit.

Draco nodded to each council member he passed, except for Killian and Hemlock. They could go fuck themselves.

“Ambarella,” Draco said politely as he walked by her seat. There was amusement on her face, and he wondered how much she knew.

On the other side of the table, across from Harry, Draco stood still.

“Councilmember Malfoy.”

“Councilmember Potter.”

Harry’s eyes were sparkling and all he wanted to do was snog the hell out of his mate.

So he did.

Draco pulled on Harry’s robes until he was half on the table and kissed him. The cheers increased and he could tell that some of them were from the council members as well.

“You did it,” Draco whispered in between kisses. It was hard to believe it happened. It was only a battle victory, and there was still more to win but it was a turning point. The council would reconsider the law, and he couldn’t wait until the appeal.

He owed a lot to Leandra. A brave woman who did what he had always dreamed of but never had the courage to try.

“We did it,” Harry corrected before continuing to kiss Draco, a tongue swiping along his bottom lip. “It’s a start.”

Draco didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know how the appeal would turn out, didn’t know how the rest of the community would take him being in a relationship with Harry. And whenever the public did find out about their mating, he didn’t know how that would go either.

But what he _did_ know was that Harry was right. It _was_ a start. Not just for Leandra and Valentine, not just for him and Harry, and not just for Nayden and Declan, but a start for anyone who had ever felt like they couldn’t love who they wanted to just because of who they were.

It was a start for everyone. 

_—fin—_

* * *

**Extra**

Draco was late, not that that was anything different from his usual, but he had promised Harry that he’d be on time.

An arm thrown around his shoulder had him turning to smile at Mina. “You’re late too? Thank Merlin it’s not just me.”

“I was waiting for you.”

Oh, well now he felt bad.

“It’s the first day,” Mina said with bright eyes. That was the most excited he’d ever seen her, even if the rest of her face didn’t show it. “You think it will go well?”

“No,” Draco laughed. “It’s going to end in several fights, and I’ll bet your next paycheck that Hemlock starts the first one.”

“No way I’m taking that. It’s a given that Hemlock will start the first one. My money is on you for the second one.”

“Me?” Draco’s lips pursed as they got closer to the court entrance. “Why would I start a fight?”

“When have you ever turned down an opportunity to fight with Killian?”

Yeah, well she wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t even near Killian on the council, so the chances of that were slim, and Harry _would_ kill him.

When they walked into the court, ready for whatever case was on the schedule for the day, over half the council members glared at them—including Harry. He didn’t care about that; his mind was focused on the changes to the court. Where there had once been four tables dividing each council—keeping them as separate as possible—there was now only one long table where no one was separated by councils. They were one. One council, one court, one community.

They were _Ana ou vinth ʃaʃen._

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to thank Marshview for being a part of the fest, otherwise, I wouldn't be here with this story. It's come to mean a lot to me, and I hope you enjoyed my take on Magical Creatures and the society I created. Thank you to everyone who read the story, I appreciate you a lot. Happy Holidays to everyone, especially the Mods and Marshview.


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